Sweet Lolita
by dontstealmyvitaminies
Summary: 1: He was GORGEOUS. 2: He was a complete jerk, AND her boss. 3: And because he loved her, he was putting her life at risk. Dammit Loli, you sure can pick 'em. Hmm, life rocks for redheads with a knack for drawing pictures and getting in trouble, don't it?
1. Prologue

**A/N: So, before this story begins, I want to thank everyone for coming along for the ride that was 'sometimes you can't make it on your own', I want to thank you for favouriting, following, reviewing and just reading it, your support meant everything for me. I'd like to think that my writing skills have developed, and that this story will be much better, but I can't say for certain, you'll have to tell me :D **

**This story is different, and whilst there will be similarities between some of the characters (due to the fact that this IS fanfiction, people), I promise you that it'll be different. It's more mature, I suppose. There will be more swearing, more violence, hopefully less angst but definitely just as many surprises, so I'm counting on your support, once again. I'm much more fond of some of my characters in this new story, particularly Loli (Elizabeth), the heroine, who I'm pretty sure is quite far away from a Mary Sue, much more-so than Ella from SYCMIOYO, but also Chandra (Charlotte), and as well, Joan (Jane) is much more thick skinned. So far I'm having fun with Whit Darcy (Fitzwilliam Darcy), he's much less of the 'oh Ella I wuv youuuuuu' Darcy that was in SYCMIOYO, he's quieter, colder, more demanding, but I think that makes him better, as well. **

**So this is just the prologue. I didn't really do much with two particular characters, Caroline Bingley and George Wickham, but I feel that in this story, Clarity Bingley and James Wickham will play a much bigger role. **

**I'm still not sure where this is going yet, I have many ideas and scenes later on that are in my head, but no definite time-line has been established. Music was such a big part of SYCMIOYO, and whilst it will be **_**in**_** this story, I can't guarantee that it will be as important, but I still love hearing suggestions for things, it's fun to work them in. And I'm writing this story for you, the readers, just as much as I'm writing it for myself, so you have to tell me what you want to read, or else you might not see it.**

**And yes, I'm writing a sequel for SYCMIOYO. I'll publish it soon, it's not that long, at the moment I'm thinking it'll only go for a few chapters, and it's set in that time between the end of the last chapter and the Epilogue, so hopefully it will explain a few things :D**

**SO, let's do this!**

He slammed the door behind him – he was angry. He was furious, he was pissed beyond belief.

How dare he? How _dare_ that son of a bitch ruin what should have been his? How _dare_ he interfere with matters that didn't concern him? He had _no_ right to throw himself into the situation, the bastard deserved whatever would come to him, and he was going to get the worst.

The man gave flicker of a grin, but it was twisted, and tore his once handsome features into the face of a madman as he pressed his forehead against the cool, reflective surface of his bathroom mirror. He was calm. He still wanted to rip the throat from that bastard's neck, but he knew that patience was of the essence. His plan was not yet ruined, there was still the appeal, and he would make sure that things go to his liking. He had six months before the appeal, and that _fucker_ was not going to step in this time. He would destroy him, whether it would be by his hands, by the hands of one of his accomplices, or with the highly trained mind that he possessed, but _dammit_, he _will_ be broken.

The man's twisted grin grew, the cool glint in his eyes twinkling as he felt laughter tickle his throat. That son of a bitch was going to pay.

~ * ~

"You have to get back to London," came the calm, cool, slightly metalic tone of Clarkson as Darcy accepted the call from his mobile in a plush hotel room, in the centre of Tokyo.

"_What_?" reeled Darcy incredulously. "I – I can't just leave Tokyo, Gigi is here!" he argued, but Clarkson did not listen. He was the head of security at Darcy Designs, the biggest design company on the planet, and in all Darcy's years of knowing him, his judgement was never wrong.

"James Wickham is not a man to be trifled with," he said, in his usual calm tones, as Darcy ran a hand through his now messy dark hair, his mind racing. "He can't do anything to Gigi, she's too closely related to the court case, and if he _does_, he'll have no hope whatsoever of winning the appeal," he explained. "But _you're_ the one that's been messing things up for him, and then you had to go to Tokyo. We know full well that he has an enormous amount of contacts in Tokyo – you can't stay here, it's too much of a risk to your health. He wants you dead. He's going to have a much higher chance of winning without you to defend Gigi," he added.

"Wouldn't it be stupid to go to London when he's there?" Darcy questioned pointedly, practically glaring into his phone. "I mean, wouldn't he have a better chance of killing me if I were right in front of him?" he asked.

"We can keep an eye out for you here, it was a stupid decision of you all to go to Tokyo _now_, especially since we know that he has connections up the whazoo in Japan due to his trafficking deal in Kyoto a few years ago," he explained, his tone still calm and collected over the phone.

"I'm not changing my family's break and my business commitments for the sake of that _rat_," said Darcy firmly. "I don't care if there's danger in it for me – send Gigi and Callum back to London, but I'm _not_ doing what he wants," he added.

"You don't have a choice, what if he targets you? All hope for Gigi and Callum will be lost! You'll be a danger to everyone you even walk past, innocent people could die unless you get as far out of the way as possible!" Clarkson stressed, his voice finally hinting at some urgency.

Darcy breathed deeply, leant forwards on the edge of the bed and placed his dark haired head in his hands, closing his eyes and thinking. He really _did _want to go back to London, and he was needed there anyway, but Gigi had wanted to get away so badly that he had thought he could put his plans off.

"Fine. Arrange my jet to take me home," he sighed.

"It'll be done," replied Clarkson, as Darcy nodded. "He's got nothing to stand on – in six months all of this will be over, and you can go back to your normal life," Clarkson said, but Darcy only gave a stale scoff in return.

"I'll be seeing you soon then, I suppose," he said finally, before pressing his thumb down on the end call button, his ears being greeted with the cool, detached sound of a dead phone line.

**A/N: So, a bit of drama, and we haven't even met Loli yet! Sorry about that terribly long author's note at the beginning, they won't ALL be this long :D So, as always, please review, I love you all :D**


	2. Welcome to my Life

**A/N: So, we get to meet Loli! I've been developing her character much more than Ella's, in SYCMIOYO, she doesn't have such a messy past and I feel that she's stronger, so I'm starting to like her even more than I liked Ella. And what do you think of Mr Posh so far? I think that the prologue was pretty ominous, but it'll be a little while before the more 'dramatic' aspects come to life. I love you all!**

**Disclaimer: Seriously, I'm publishing this on a FANFICTION website. Do you REALLY think that I own the book? **

An impatient tap, tap, tapping at the door. The soft, droning buzz from an alarm clock in the shape of a sleeping pink cat. The unwanted, unnecessary chirping of birds on the window pane, and finally, the topple of a cutlery-filled box as the landlord pushed the front door open.

"Loli, I've been knocking on your bloody door for fifteen bloody minutes, and if you don't get your backside out of this apartment and these boxes onto that giant truck taking up the entire car park then I swear to God, I'm billing you for next month's rent too!" screamed Mr Haruna, his normally greyish face turning red.

Loli promptly fell out of bed, in her Pink House jammies and all.

"What the hell Haruna – I could have been naked!" she cried, sitting up and struggling against the sheets, which had wrapped themselves tightly around her legs. Haruna only rolled his eyes, after two years he was used to Loli's behaviour and attitude to mornings.

"Why would you be naked at nine AM? You're barely ever conscious at this hour," he snapped. Loli sent him an angry glare, a stray red curl slipping from her loose bun. She sat up, pushing the lock from her face, still glaring fiercely at Haruna.

"I'm leaving today and all you can do is yell at me. Shows how grateful you are!" she said angrily, poking her tiny pink tongue in the direction of her landlord. Haruna only rolled his dark eyes again in response, and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall of the studio apartment.

"I should be grateful, actually, because now I can let out this apartment to a nice, _sane_ person!" he replied pointedly, glancing around the room. Almost everything was packed away in a box, all of them had been clumsily sell-o-taped shut with words scrawled over them, like 'kitchen things', 'bathroom stuff', 'shoes', and 'pink'. Only a few things were scattered around, a single converse sneaker, a copy of _Utopia_ by Thomas Moore, a satin-covered pillow and a giant Totoro plushie. The walls had been stripped bare, they had once held pictures, drawings and prints and paintings, posters from various bands, ranging from Placebo to Maroon Five, and the ridiculous Sailor Moon clock that used to hang over the bed. The apartment looked bare, most of the furniture had already been moved, and all that would suggest such a colourful person had lived there was the pink and yellow cupcake wallpaper.

"Have fun finding a sane person in all of Tokyo. I was your closest bet, buddy!" Loli snapped in response, adjusting her pink camisole and smiling panda boxers. "Are you going to let me have a shower, or are you going to stand there, pissing me off?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips, and sending Haruna one of her perfected glares.

"Are you kidding? I was going to take some boxes down to the truck – the sooner you get out of here the better," he snapped. Loli scowled, and picked up the change of clothes she had left on the floor by her bed to wear for that day. She stormed off into the bathroom, slamming the door.

"And I'm going to have a really _slow_ shower just to spite you!" she called out from behind the door. She heard only Haruna's stale, sarcastic laugh as a result. "And since I just paid my last bill here – _you're_ going to have to pay for the hot water!" she added on impulse, quietening Haruna long enough for her to give a triumphant grin. Ha.

He was no longer in her apartment when she stepped out of the shower, changed into something comfortable for the plane trip. She glanced around; he had taken almost all of her boxes down to the truck like a good little landlord. 'Jeez', Loli thought to herself. 'He really wants me out of here'. She carried the last few boxes down to the truck with a great deal of nostalgia, despite all of her efforts to push such trivial feelings behind her. After all, she had been living in Tokyo for two years; she did her last year of University at the International Art Institute of Tokyo and had spent the following year working at the Studio Chibli, it was a huge part of her life, but now she was headed back into Western society, back into (shudder) _reality_.

She tiredly ran a hand through her pale red curls as she watched the truck drive away, and hailed a taxi to take her to the airport with the last of her belongings, all sitting on the side of the street outside of her apartment building. She had checked every room, every nook and cranny, and had successfully taken herself out of that building completely, physically and emotionally. She was exhausted. She had celebrated her last night in Japan with her close friend from University, Sora Fu, which consisted of great deals of saki and a _lot_ of dancing. She almost winced at the recollection of the night before, but she had needed it. After all, she was twenty-one, she was young and healthy and about to embark on an amazing life journey (cough), why shouldn't she celebrate it?

She released one long sigh. Thinking. Too hard. She just wanted to get on the plane, get to England, and sleep in the comfort of her new apartment (that she hadn't even seen, but had decorated about ten minutes after purchase). She had always hated the idea of a permanent residence, she never really had one before her parents broke up and her father married some ditzy blonde in England and her mother moved to Paris, but now she was settling down in the very country that had imprisoned her. Go figure.

Her tiny, pale hand gripped around the handle of her oversized canvas Kawaii bunny handbag as she headed over to the waiting room, all of her other possessions already boarding the plane whilst she could not. Her bag was covered with badges, buttons, ribbons, a ridiculous amount of keyrings, stickers and small drawings that she had done herself, completely characterised down to her personality. Unique, one of a kind, and very strange. She was still slightly angry because the flight had been delayed, but it didn't bother her as much as it should. In her mind, it said only that there was more time to herself before she had to come face to face with _Fanny Bettenne_, tormentor of her childhood, the most painful skeleton in her closet, the type of mother that psychiatrists hated.

Fanny Bettenne wasn't her mother, of course. Her father was what she called a 'man-slut hippie' when she was a youth, and Fanny was just one of his many 'soul-mates', but _she_ had managed to tie him down (for a while, at least) after he became the father of her triplets and the step-father to her other daughter, dragging Loli along for the ride. Her own mother had another family that Loli adored and saw often, but not as much as she would like; another incentive to go to England. England was much closer to Paris than Tokyo was, and she could finally spend some more time with her mother, step-father and half brothers and sisters.

She pushed all thoughts of England from her mind when she realised that she was rather hungry. She spied a small stand run by a nervous looking young man, and her stomach growled in approval. She hadn't eaten since the night before, and even that was just greasy sushi at two AM. Despite the fact that the entire world seemed to hate American expansion, she was at that moment very pleased for it. A mini-McDonalds, who would have thought?

She strolled over to the stand, there was a bit of a line but at least she was one step closer to getting food. She glanced around, the airport waiting room was filled with disgruntled passengers all wanting to go somewhere else. She couldn't help but smile softly, even thought it was probably the wrong emotion to display.

"Well what's the bloody point of having a private plane if I'm still being forced to go on some commercial piece of trash?" came a sharp, irritated voice from in front of her. Loli took her ipod headphones out and glanced up.

She could only see the back of the man, he was a great deal bigger than her, which wasn't saying much, because Loli had always been annoyingly short, and wearing a very nice, very well-fitting suit. It looked like Armani for sure. She could see from her position that he had length dark hair with the tiniest bit of a curl to the ends, and there were no complaints as to his backside.

"Don't give me that crap, it doesn't matter if I'm in first class or bloody coach, I'm still on a plane with drooling children and crack whores," the man continued. Loli rolled her eyes, he was such a sissy. He, unlike almost everyone in the waiting room of the airport, was speaking in English. He had a very educated accent; Loli guessed the North of England, and it was lilted slightly with Russian. His tone was sharp and annoyed, and yet it was quite amusing for Loli.

She stepped briefly to the side to see how many people were in front of Mr Posh, as she dubbed him, before stepping back to her own position, having no new knowledge. He really was quite tall.

"I don't want to calm down! I want my jet, I want a decent cup of coffee, and I want to be back in bloody England!" he snapped angrily. Loli stifled laughter, she wondered if he wanted his teddy too. He put the phone down temporarily (she recognised the brand new Blackberry Bold, except in the original advertisements she didn't recall it having sapphire inlay in the buttons, an emerald call button and a ruby end call one. She rolled her eyes, 'I wonder if he can say _trust fund baby_', she wondered. "Cappuccino, two sugars," he said to the poor boy manning the stand. He only looked at the man in complete confusion, but Mr Posh had already returned back to his phone.

"Mr Posh wants a cappuccino, with two sugars," she said in Japanese to the young boy, who smiled gratefully.

"What's his problem?" the boy asked, glancing over at the man with a bit of apprehension.

"His private jet isn't here to pick him up," Loli explained with a grin.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I was in the understanding that if someone is in front of you in a line, it means they're served first," snapped Mr Posh, turning to Loli.

God, he was gorgeous. 'How could one man possibly _be _that gorgeous?', she thought to herself, noting how much more attractive his front was to his back, if that were even possible. His lengthy dark hair fell perfectly into his face with a slight side fringe, a face that looked like it had been carved from precious marble by angels hand picked by God. His eyes were glinted stormy silver under the boring airport lights, driving into her and giving her chills. He was one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. Everything, down to his perfect nose and perfect lips and perfect backside screamed 'I'm _hot_'. She suddenly wished she had bothered to put something slightly more glamorous on that morning, instead of a pair of faded blue bootleg jeans with a large rip in the knee and a thigh-length pink sweater with a giant chibi picture of a panda on the front. Even some nicer shoes than her bright orange All Stars that clashed horribly with her hair would have been helpful.

"I wasn't ordering, but he doesn't speak English, he had no idea what you said," Loli explained, trying to ignore the drop-dead-gorgeousness of the man by reminding herself that he was being incredibly rude.

"What's he doing working in an airport if he can't speak English? He's probably just some high school drop out who couldn't get a better job," snapped Mr Posh angrily, glaring at her.

"Probably trying to earn some money to go to University, get a car, buy some drugs for the rest of his high school drop out home dogs," Loli said sarcastically. The man continued to glare at her, trying to use his size for intimidation. It almost worked, but despite Loli's lack of height, she wasn't one to be intimidated. "Your coffee is done," she informed him coolly, her eyes still not flickering from his. Mr Posh gave her one last glare and turned back to the boy at the stand. He paid for his coffee and walked away.

"Jeez, what a jerk," the young boy commented, as Loli grinned slightly, and rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to have to agree with you there," she replied, before ordering.

Ten minutes later, Loli was sitting on the floor of the waiting room, since every single seat had been taken. She didn't mind so much, she sat there comfortably by a large potted plant, sipping her Frozen Fanta and munching on her large chips. She loved chips. She turned up the volume of her ipod and let her eyes flutter to a brief close, stretching her legs out comfortably. She wouldn't mind if the plane didn't leave for another half hour, she had Frozen Fanta, chips and Kings of Leon. All was good.

"Hey, watch out!"

Loli's eyes snapped open quickly, locking onto the form of Mr Posh, who was glaring at her in a very disgruntled manner. She supposed that he hadn't gotten his private plane yet.

"Why the hell are you sitting on the ground, with your legs out so that any unsuspecting stranger could trip on them?" he snapped at her questioningly.

"Your head was probably so far up your behind that you didn't see my legs – they're right there," she replied simply, turning her ipod down but not bothering to remove her headphones.

"I should have seen your bloody shoes from a mile away, tell me, what highlighter orange the intended colour, or did you just puke on them and leave them as they were?" he asked coldly. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Wow," she said simply, smiling softly.

"What? What's wow?" Mr Posh questioned curiously, frowning slightly, before a look of familiar realisation came onto his face. Loli almost _did_ puke; she could tell what he was thinking. Sure, he was gorgeous, stunning really, but she wasn't going to let him walk away thinking that she was so baffled by his looks that she couldn't respond to his insults.

"I think we finally have evidence of alien life. Tell me, did they just forget to remove their ten foot probe from your ass, or did you ask for them to leave it in because your boyfriend was out of town?" she questioned innocently. The man pulled on another scowl.

"Is it that time of the month or are you always a bitch?" he asked her coolly. Loli sipped her drink pleasantly.

"Always," she replied cheerily. "Oh look, there's a crippled child, why don't you toddle off and steal their crutches whilst I ignore you?" she suggested. Mr Posh gave her one last glare and stalked off. Loli congratulated herself, and celebrated with another chip. Maybe things were going to be interesting after all.

**A/N: Lolz. I know, he's a bit of a prick.**


	3. This is the Jungle

**A/N: Whooo so thanks for the reviews, and it also means heaps to me that so many people put alerts on my story, I love the fact that you have so much faith in me :D So this chapter isn't that long, and we don't get to see Darcy again, but I promise that the next chapter is HUGE. About ten thousand words, people. For the time being I'm going to be updating daily, because I hate the way that people leave their readers hanging for months at a time, and I know that people appreciate the quick updates. Besides, I'm on school holidays! I have no life, I'm fifteen, I can't drive anywhere, so I'm mostly cooped up in my room with this story :D**

By the time her plane finally, _finally_ landed, and the grubby taxi _finally_ finished its long and painful journey to the through the countryside in all of it's quaint, dull glory, it was about midday the day before or the day after or a week from Tuesday, and Loli was exhausted. She was supposed to arrive in _London _much earlier that morning, to give herself some time to settle into her apartment, before she crashed into slumber, but the delay in flight ended up in her having to get on a different plane from Tokyo, and by some singularly painful twist of fate, in Hertfordshire Airport, about a half hour's drive from the boringly English home of Fanny Bettenne and her three horrid triplets. She hated fate.

Upon arriving, she pushed away warm greetings and eager requests for information on her activities over the past two years in favour of a hot shower in the bathroom connecting to the guest room where she would be sleeping for the night until she could move into her new apartment, and ignored everyone but Joan on her trip upstairs.

"Mm… trip was fine… long," she muttered tiredly as a response to Joan's enquiry. She loved Joan, she really did, but she was so exhausted that she could hardly even stand, let alone hold up a conversation.

"How about I unpack for you whilst you have a nice hot bath? You must be tired," Joan suggested warmly in her musical voice, filled with love and appreciation of her step-sister. They had always been very close through their infancy, even though Joan was living with her father every other weekend and Loli was in perpetual motion from her father, to mother, to step-families, they were much closer than Loli was with her half-sisters of her father's relationship with Fanny, she doubted if she had ever heard three words of sense connected from any of their mouths in her entire existence.

"Joan, have I told you how much I love you recently?" questioned Loli with relief, turning towards her step-sister.

Joan was beautiful. She had beautiful blonde curls, beautiful golden skin, beautiful blue eyes and beautiful facial features; even her tall, willowy frame was beautiful. She was also beautiful on the inside as well, ridiculously so. She was kind and considerate to all who she met, and had probably never said a bad word about anyone, no matter their actions. She was the type of girl that you _wanted _to hate, because she was perfect, but hating Joan was an impossibility, she was too… _beautiful_.

"Hmm… not enough," Joan laughed smilingly, dazzling the room with her perfect white teeth and twinkling eyes.

"Hang on; what are you even doing here? I thought you still lived in London," Loli questioned suddenly, stopping in front of the door to the spare room.

"Mum wanted me to stay with her for a few days, so I took some time off work," she shrugged, opening the door and helping Loli bring in her bags. Joan worked as a photographer for some beauty and fashion magazine in London that Loli had never read, and was often able to get days of for a week at a time when her services were not needed.

"Bah! Lucky you, I spend two days unpacking before I have to start straight into a new job, how the hell am I going to manage?" she questioned, throwing her bags on the bed and running a hand through her hair. "You don't need a car to live in London, do you?" she questioned curiously, unzipping one of her suitcases as Joan did the same.

"Not really, how close are you to work?"

"Ten minute walk, I managed to find a really good apartment," she replied, going through her luggage to find a comfortable change of clothes to sleep in, tossing aside shoes, jeans, dresses and skirts in the process.

"You should be able to manage, and you can always borrow my car," Joan replied. Loli smiled softly. Just another example of Joan's kindness in any situation.

"Thank you muchly," Loli sighed, finally finding a change of clothes. "I'm going to have a shower, it's really good to see you again, Joan," she said, kissing her step-sister's cheek before she headed into the bathroom.

The hot water was a calming relief, and rather necessary. Loli let it slide over her skin, washing away more than just the aeroplane grime, but also some of the tension that had been building up inside of her. She was nervous, if she had to admit it. She was nervous about a new city, a new home, a new job and new people that she had to get along with, but she was also slightly excited. It was the best move for her career. She knew that.

But she had never really cared that much about her career.

Darcy Designs was a top-notch company, they did everything from graphics for websites to interior design and now a proposed range of clothing, the pay was good and they had covered her moving expenses to get into the city that most of her family lived in anyway, but she _loved_ Tokyo. It was her favourite place in the world; she had visited when she was only two years old and adored it from that moment on, so why had she decided to move to England? England was boring – Tokyo had excitement dripping out of it from every crevice.

She sighed, and washed the last of the conditioner from her hair with tired fingers.

Something had _told_ her to do it. Something had whispered in the back of her mind to take the plunge, that it would change everything, and for the better. So she had listened to her intuition.

She just hoped that her intuition was right.

"So. Loli. Do you have a boyfriend?" questioned Fanny pointedly, wrapping the spaghetti around her fork slowly before she raised it to her pouting red mouth.

"Nope," Loli replied cheerfully, taking a sip of some sort of bubbly drink that had been provided. "You?" she asked conversationally, as Lindsey gave a snort of laughter. Fanny only frowned disapprovingly.

"Obviously you haven't learnt to respect your elders," she snapped in response.

"Knowledge is measured in breathes, not words, and in thoughts, not in years," squeaked Mya suddenly. Everyone turned to the pale-skinned, purple-headed girl currently staring at her plate.

"Good call. You misquoted a bit though, but I'm sure Aristotle won't mind," Loli said with a grin. Mya awkwardly sipped her drink in response.

"She _never_ shuts up, you know," Kayte informed Loli, leaning over the table and speaking conspiratorially in a not-so-hushed voice.

"Hmm… I suppose that runs in the family," Loli replied casually as Kayte returned to her seat, a bemused expression upon her face.

"Did you just insult me?" she asked curiously, her pencil-thin eyebrows knitting together as she frowned.

"Depends on your perspective," Loli shrugged.

"Don't frown, Kayte, it'll give you wrinkles," snapped Fanny pointedly, as her middle triplet turned pink.

"Sorry Mum," she replied, as Loli hid laughter. Kayte scowled at Loli and turned back to her dinner, determined to keep her face as neutral as possible. Loli didn't _want_ to find it funny, she knew full well that her step-mother's influence over Mya, Kayte and Lindsay was not a joking matter, but somehow it still amused Loli, because Fanny's priorities were so out-of-order that it was nothing short of crazy.

She often wondered how her father had fallen for Fanny Bettenne, even for such a short period of time. And marriage? Her father hadn't even gotten married to Loli's mother, even _after_ Loli was born. Instead the three adopted a gypsy lifestyle, roaming from place to place, that's how her father met Fanny. Five years, after a marriage, pregnancy and a rather large argument, he was begging Loli's mother to come back, promising that he would move out and divorce Fanny the moment she said 'yes', but she turned him away. By that time she had taken Loli all around the world again, showing her things that her father had felt were too 'grown-up' for his little girl to see, but they enchanted Loli. That is, when she wasn't being imprisoned in England for five months every year from ages eight to thirteen. The moment that the marriage between her father and Fanny started to fall apart her mother resumed full custody, and they continued to run around the world, that was when her mother met Edgar.

Edgar was the up and coming owner of a building machinery company, and he completely adored Loli's mother. They married when Loli was sixteen, and had four children, the twins, Nathaniel and Ezekiel, then five-year-old Magdalen, and finally, the three-year-old darling Eve.

Loli's mother and stepfather had a thing for biblical names.

"Eat your spaghetti, Loli," snapped Fanny. Loli snapped out of the fazed-out look she had just adopted, and sheepishly continued to eat her dinner. "So. Tell me about this job you've got," she demanded.

"Well…it's for Darcy Designs," she began, interrupted by a shrill squeal from Lindsay and Kayte in union.

"_The_ Darcy Designs?" Lindsay cried.

"It's a very important company now, isn't it Loli," Joan commented. She had been quiet most of the dinner, watching her family converse with each other.

"Yeah, it's worth something like ten billion pounds," she explained.

"_Ten billion pounds_?" gasped Fanny incredulously, as Loli nodded.

"And it hasn't gone public, either, with the stocks and all of that, so that's pretty much the owner's bank-balance," she added. "It has offices all over the world, the biggest is in London," she explained. "They're so big because they do all kinds of design, websites, graphics, interior, architectural, fashion, illustration, everything," she continued, sipping her bubbly beverage.

"And what will you be doing in the company?" Joan asked curiously.

"I'm a junior assistant director for the Britain based Graphical Illustration sector," she explained in a monotone voice, as if she were reading her title off the back of her eyelids. "I don't really know what that means, but I figure I'll just be drawing pictures as usual," she added, shrugging, and reaching for the salt.

"Do you get to meet _Darcy_?" Kayte questioned dreamily.

Loli blinked.

"Err… I assume he's the owner of the company, right?" she questioned blankly.

"_Owner_? He's a billionaire, _and_ he's gorgeous, _and_ he's not that old either, I mean, he's not _forty_ or something," Lindsay exclaimed.

"Hmm… so he's _not_ forty? That's being a bit vague. He sounds too old for you, _and_ for me," she replied.

"Cale Bingley isn't too old for you," Fanny said quietly. Loli looked up at her curiously. "Well, not for _you_ obviously, he's too old and successful for you, I mean for Joan," she snapped, sending loving hazel eyes to her stunning off-spring opposite to her. "He's _very_ rich as well, _and_ only twenty-eight, he's perfect for you," she explained.

"I – Mum? I don't know him," Joan tried to explain. She was normally very patient with her mother, but after Loli's influence she had begun to realise that her mother was, in fact, a complete flake.

"Oh dear, that doesn't matter! Besides, you'll meet him tomorrow night!" she replied, waving her favoured daughter off.

"What's tomorrow night?" Loli asked curiously, sipping some more of her drink.

"You shouldn't be drinking. It's bad for your health," Joan said sternly, avoiding the question, taking Loli's glass from her.

"Hey! I'm not allowed contact sport, they said nothing about alcohol," Loli replied pointedly, taking her glass back. "And _you're_ not telling me something," she added, her gaze sharpening slightly. "Spill," she demanded.

"I was going to tell you about it…" Joan muttered. "Umm, well, you know how I've told you about the editor of the magazine I work at?" she questioned, as Loli frowned.

"No," she answered, scanning her memory for any recollection of the editor of her magazine being brought up in conversation.

"Well, her name is Clarity Bingley, and… she invited me to this thing tomorrow night, and she said I could bring a guest, and…" she trailed off. "I kind of… maybe put your name down as my plus one," she said awkwardly, as Loli groaned.

"No. I don't believe you," she snapped. "Lies. All of them. I'm not going."

"Come on Loli, it'll be fun!" Joan stressed, but Loli only shook her head.

"I know exactly what it'll be like; she's a high-society girl, isn't she?" Loli questioned pointedly, as Joan nodded. "Thought so. There's going to be a room full of people, all of them snobby aristocrats wearing clothes that cost more than my rent, talking about complete crap and pretending they care about everyone else's crap," she continued. "I'm going to end up standing around in the corners of the room, all by myself, because even the butlers will look down on me," she snapped.

"Loli, it won't be like that, you'll love it!" Joan stressed, her big blue eyes desperate and pleading.

"Nup. Nope. I won't do it," Loli said firmly. "And don't give me the puppy face – I no longer have a heart," she added, upon seeing Joan's downfallen expression.

"But I'll be so lonely without you there!" Joan replied miserably.

"Don't care."

"Aw, Loli, I never get to see you nowadays! I miss you so much!" she continued. "Please? One night. We don't even have to stay that long," she added, trying to convince her closest friend.

"I hate you. Why do you do this to me?" Loli cried irritably, as Joan gave a happy squeal.

"Yay! Oh, I _love_ you Loli!" she said joyfully.

"Yeah, sure, I've heard _that_ one before," she muttered, rolling her eyes sarcastically, before sighing. "Jeez, you've really been working on your manipulative powers since I left," she added, Joan beaming.

"Well, it was all of your influence, I guess," she replied.

"Your _bad_ influence," Fanny threw in disapprovingly.

"Forever and always, Fanny dear," Loli countered sarcastically. "I've had enough, I think I'll hit the sack," she said, taking her plate. She ignored Fanny's pointed glare as she stood up, and headed to the kitchen.

It was promising, to say the least. She hadn't thrown flaming daggers at her.

Yet.

**A/N: Review! Review! Review! Nice long reviews with critique and your lovely wisdom :D**


	4. Fun and Games

**A/N: So, thanks for the reviews, I'm so glad that they keep on coming :D I just thought I'd give you a bit of research, so that you can understand this story.**

**Sweet Lolita is a kind of fashion style, centred in Japan. Sweet Lolita is a sub-culture of Lolita, and the basic principle is clothing based on eighteenth century style, like bell skirts and lace and bows and all of that, mixed with child-like influences. For example, to my formal, I wore a Sweet Lolita outfit. I had a white tutu with a bell skirt, a thick pink ribbon around my waist, white knee-high stockings, point ballet slippers and a crown. Look it up on google, it's really cool, I adore it. And so does Loli, in this story. But if your going to google it, make sure you type 'Sweet Lolita', because otherwise you might get a few things you probably don't want to see. Also, look up things like 'kawaii', 'chibi' and 'studio chibli' to get an idea of Loli's interests.**

'**Lolita' is a novel, by author Vladimir Nabokov. I mentioned it briefly in the third-last chapter of SYCMIOYO, and Darcy spoke of it as a sort of forbidden book. It shouldn't be forbidden really, but it deals with the topic of paedophilia, when the narrator Humbert falls in love with a twelve-year-old girl, Dolores (who is nicknamed Lolita), and has an affair with her. It's a brilliant book. It's very clever, and very well written. I can't say that I wasn't sort of disgusted, to a degree, but you shouldn't let that turn you off a good book. The fashion style of Lolita relates to the book, in the manner that Lolita (in the novel) used her childlike attractiveness to seduce Humbert, and Lolita fashion uses childlike attractiveness to improve their own attractiveness. Youth is very much desired in Japan, and in most other countries, and it's just a way of looking younger, to a degree. It's lots of fun, but there are some pretty bad connotations to Lolita fashion, due to the book.**

**Also, if you wanted to have at least a vague idea of Loli's appearance, google 'A Fine Frenzy'. Not **_**exactly**_** what Loli looks like, but it's a reference :D **

"Loli, I've got the car double parked outside, I hope you're ready!" Joan called, pushing open the door to her step-sister's new apartment with haste. She glanced around as she rushed through, she had seen it countless times already, Loli hired an interior designer to do it up so it would be fit for human habitation and Joan had been overseeing the process. Each room had feature colours, blue for the kitchen (all of the walls were a pale baby blue with white pinstripes, that style continuing on in all rooms but in different colours), pale yellow for the combined living/dining area, baby pink for the bedroom, powder mint green in the bathroom and the last room, Loli's 'enjoyment room' as she had dubbed it, had white walls, she was planning on painting them like murals when she had the chance.

"S'kay, I'm in here," called Loli, not moving her eyes from her book (_The Razor's Edge_ by W. Somerset Maugham). Joan threw her purse down on a couch in the entrance to the living room and walked through the light purple hallway to the enjoyment room.

"Why aren't you dressed?" screeched Joan as soon as she laid her eyes on her step-sister, who was lying on a beanbag under the mostly-for-decoration-grand piano with a reading lamp sitting beside her, wearing jeans and a dark sweater, her black framed reading glasses perched on her nose, which was dotted with several almost invisible light brown freckles.

"I _am_ dressed," replied Loli, frowning slightly. "I wouldn't sit around the flat _naked_ Joan, I'm not that weird," she pointed out, turning a page.

"I mean for _tonight_! The party Loli, you _said_ you would come!" stressed Joan.

"Oh yeah, I was unpacking and then I just got so caught up in this book, you should hear some of this, there's a character called Larry and he has some of the most interesting things to say about –" Loli stopped and looked up at her step-sister, all five foot ten of her, with her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing angrily, her golden skin flushed in irritation. "And you don't really care about it," muttered Loli, closing the book. "This is fine, they're never going to treat me like a real human being anyway," she explained, crawling out from under the piano, as Joan sighed.

"Loli, you have to wear something _presentable_," she snapped.

"I _am_ presentable – I don't want to play dress-ups for these people," she snapped.

"Loli, you _have_ to think more about these things, _normal_ people don't spend their life running around the world, you need to be responsible," Joan told her sternly, as Ella rolled her big, darkly framed lashes, the colour today a pale, almost milky blue.

"Yeah, well I'm not really that normal, to be frank," she countered, brushing down her clothes. "Am I sexy?" she asked jokingly, striking a random pose.

"No," Joan replied simply, folding her arms. "Come on then, have you eaten?" she asked, leading Loli through to the kitchen.

"Recently, or in my entire existence?"

"I mean _today_," she responded, opening the fridge in the kitchen. "You have barely anything!" she exclaimed.

"Meh, I have menus for all of the finest take away joints and a phone at my disposal," shrugged Loli, sitting atop the bench Indian style as Joan rattled through cupboards.

"Tomorrow you can go grocery shopping," she said sternly. "You didn't answer me, did you eat?"

Loli rolled her eyes, and sighed. Joan was an angel, really, but she was very protective and somewhat overpowering.

"Suffice to say that this morning's blueberry muffin was quite filling," she grinned.

"_Loli_!" Joan practically growled.

"Okay, okay! I get it," Loli cried in defense, sliding off the bench. "But I'll be fed there anyway, don't worry about it," she added, rolling her shoulders back. "So, to the wardrobe?" she asked brightly.

"Take your meds first, I'll have a look and see what you have," Joan replied, closing the cupboard door and leaving the kitchen. Loli rolled her eyes and pulled open the draw with her medication. She had to take a variety of pills, vitamins and supplements, but also pills to control her blood clotting disorder. Joan's concern was unfounded; Loli knew that she had it under control.

"My god, everything you have is… is some sort of joke!" Loli heard Joan cry as she swallowed down an iron supplement.

"Yeah, courtesy of living in Tokyo for two years," Loli replied, draining her glass of water before she headed into her room. Joan was pulling dresses out and throwing them on the bed with haste, occasionally holding them up and evaluating any hidden qualities they may have had.

"What's with all of the pink and the bows and that?" Joan questioned.

"It's Sweet Lolita!" Loli cried in defense. "Sweet Lolita is the most amazing and adorable style on earth, I uphold its cute-ness," she added proudly, falling back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling through the white screen canopy.

"I dunno, hot pink always sort of frightened me," Joan retorted.

"Bah!" Loli practically growled. "I _despise_ hot pink. Baby pink, pale pink, pastel pink, I love them all, but I draw a line at anything even _slightly_ resembling fuchsia," she snapped.

"You can put this on, you've showered, right?" Joan questioned, tossing a dress towards her step-sister.

"Of course, you know how important personal hygiene is so me," Loli replied, clearly offended. "That and testing the new bathroom. Lot's of fun," she added, with a grin, before actually looking at the dress.

"Put it on, Loli," Joan practically ordered her, noticing her doubtful expression.

"I forgot that I even _owned_ this," she muttered. It was nice, to a degree, it was a slightly off-white coloured dress that ended a fair few inches above her knees, it had a nice cut (a bit low, actually) at the front, and a daring cut at the back, showing off much of her porcelain skin.

"Don't make me repeat myself _again_," Joan said sternly. Loli rolled her eyes, and rolled back, sliding her jeans off without even bothering to get off the bed. She pulled off her sweater and put the dress on, flicking her hair back. "I can see your bra strap," Joan informed her. Loli rolled her eyes again, and removed her bra without taking off the dress.

"Do I need tape?" she questioned, glancing down at her chest. The dress was a bit tight around the bust, so she didn't really need a bra at all.

"You're fine, grab some shoes and do your makeup, we have to go," she ordered.

"Yes, oh holy master, what else would you have me do, lord?" she asked sarcastically.

"Can you brush your hair, if you have time?" Joan offered with a cheeky smile. Loli laughed, and slid off the bed.

"You look gorgeous, by the way," she added. She wore a strapless blue dress with a slightly poofy skirt, it ended a bit below her knees and she partnered it with a pair of silver heels. Her hair fell about her face in wavy curls, her makeup light and tasteful. She blushed prettily, only improving her appearance.

"Thanks, Loli," she replied. "Hurry up then, we _really_ have to go," she added, before slipping out of the room.

Loli did her makeup, hair and accessories in record time, and within ten minutes they were in a taxi headed for a venue somewhere in the middle of London, Loli had taken no notice of the details. In her black clutch purse (it matched the black heels and jewellery she wore) with a silver clasp she had placed her ipod – resulting in her happy silence. She glanced over at Joan every few minutes; she could tell that her step-sister was nervous.

"What's the deal, sis?" Loli asked, pausing the song and taking the headphones out of her ears.

"I'm fine, Loli," Joan smiled. "Really, I am!" she stressed, noting the doubtful expression she received as a response.

"Lies. Why has this turned into a taxi of lies, Joan?" Loli asked sincerely, her eyes twinkling. Joan rolled her own eyes, and brushed her step-sister off.

"I'm just a bit nervous, but that's all," she swore firmly.

"Hmm… is that because a certain Cale Bingley will be there, or do you just have the hots for this Clarity chick?" Loli questioned, inspecting her nails with pretend casual interest.

"No! I told you Loli, I haven't even met him," Joan giggled. "It's just that there's going to be a lot of people there tonight, and I won't know all of them," she explained.

"Perfect justification for being one step away from shitting your pants," Loli said sarcastically. Joan rolled her eyes once more, and shoved her step-sister aside.

"Bully," Joan objected playfully. Loli grinned with pride, before she put her headphone back in her ear, and continued to stare out the window into the busy London night.

It took them another good fifteen minutes to get to the venue – and by that stage Loli was most definitely _bored_.

"Finally!" she cried, ceasing her irritating tapping that had been going on for five minutes when the taxi slowed to a stop outside a very posh looking hotel. "Ooh, shiny," she practically squealed.

"Loli, behave," Joan ordered sternly. Loli rolled her eyes, and got out of the car. They paid the taxi and headed up to the front doors, following a tastefully dressed elderly couple with their noses high in the air.

"Why do I get the impression that this is going to be _a lot_ fancier than what I dreaded earlier?" Loli hissed to Joan.

"Shutup and stare straight ahead."

Loli rolled her eyes. The night had only just begun and she already wanted to go home with a tub of ice cream and a good book.

The venue was indeed, fancy. Loli could tell before they even walked into the function room, because the man at the front desk looked down on them the moment they entered. Joan only smiled brilliantly in that disarming manner she had, but Loli started humming the death march.

"Shutup Loli, you look fantastic, you're an interesting person, you've travelled the world, you're going to be fine in there," Joan murmured to her step-sister.

"What happened to the sweet, docile Joan I used to know?" Loli asked curiously. Joan hadn't a chance to answer though – because they walked into the room.

Everything looked… well, gorgeous, and completely over the top. All of the decorations matched, in silver, white and gold, there were about a hundred people, maybe more, all dancing or drinking champagne or gossiping, and they were all wearing tremendously expensive clothing and jewellery.

Loli frowned slightly as she looked around. Almost every woman in there was blonde with a fake, golden tan. Loli, with her long, pale scarlet hair, ivory skin and brilliantly blue eyes stuck out like a sore thumb, especially considering the fact that the dress she wore had cost eighty pounds, and she thought it was expensive at the time. The people currently glancing condescendingly towards her wouldn't wear an eighty pound dress whilst dusting. It was Chanel, Gucci, Louis Vitton all the way.

"I suddenly feel underdressed," Loli whispered, frowning slightly. None of the women there had dresses that allowed you to see their knees – it was formal to the extreme.

"Loli, you look fine," Joan whispered. "Oh look, there's Clarity," she announced, glancing over Loli's shoulder. She turned around to see the infamous Clarity – and all she could think was _shit_.

The woman approaching was quite tall, five foot eleven, or even six foot, perhaps. She was very thin, with long, golden tanned limbs and cascading locks of strawberry blonde hair, her very full lips painted in a shade of crimson that reminded Loli distinctively of _blood_. Her eyes were cold and sharp, and completely colourless. She wore a very sheer full length dress of red-wine with a split up the thigh bordering on pornographic, and heels that you probably needed a licence for. She was gorgeous, and decidedly Northern European, but, Loli noted, she had definitely had some major work done.

"Joan! How wonderful it is to see you, darling," the woman crooned. Her voice was sweet like honey, _too_ sweet for it to be sincere. She quickly approached Joan, and pressed a delicate kiss to each cheek, hardly touching Joan at all. "Oh, and look at this! Isn't she sweet?" she cried softly, turning to Loli with some sort of patronising awe.

"Clarity, this is my step-sister, Loli," Joan introduced, as Loli glanced up to the woman. The blonde woman was _very_ tall, giving Loli a rather unwanted view of obviously very fake DD cups.

"She's just so _cute_," the woman, 'Clarity' exclaimed. "Do you go to school around here?" she simpered, turning back to Loli.

"Yeah, the primary school down the road," Loli answered sarcastically.

"Sorry? I didn't hear that, but you've got such a lovely accent!" Clarity responded, before flicking her hair back, and turning to Joan. "Darling, _where_ did you pick her up? She's simply _divine_, how old is she?" she questioned.

"Twenty-one," Joan replied. Clarity's eyes widened in shock, and possible envy.

"_Really_? She looks no more than sixteen!" she cried, looking back at Loli.

"I can drink and everything," she boasted, her tone hinting at sarcasm, but once more, it was lost on Clarity.

"Incredible. You _must_ tell me what moisturiser you use!" she cried. Loli wanted to roll her eyes and walk away, but she only sighed.

"Mud. Lots of it. Filled with bugs and twigs," she answered simply.

"That accent! I can't understand a word, _so_ sorry," drawled Clarity. "Come on then Joan, Lolly, I'd like you to meet some people," she said, gripping Joan's arm with perfectly manicured talons, Tiffany & Co. sparkling on her fingers and wrist. She pulled them away, Loli following miserably in the woman's cloud of Chanel No5.

"Chandra!" Loli cried, when her gaze fell upon a familiar brown head. Chandra Lucas turned, saw Loli, and squealed, rushing away from some supposedly 'important' business associates of her father's with more haste than she had ever previously attempted.

"Loli!" screeched Chandra, within seconds pulling the younger into a tight hug. "Oh my God, what are you _doing_ here?" she questioned excitedly, pulling back to look at her old friend. "You look stunning, that hair!" she cried.

"I got a job in London, Joan dragged me here tonight," she explained. "Wow, _love_ the new look," she praised, looking Chandra up and down.

Whilst not traditionally attractive, Chandra had an interesting face, and always wore the right clothes to compliment her curvy figure, and had her wavy brown hair regularly styled and changed to suit the times. She wore a black satin and chiffon dress with vertical brocade to slim down her figure, her hair pulled up elegantly and her makeup subtle.

"Thanks, special occasions call for it," she replied.

"You call _this_ special?" questioned Loli. "I call it torture. Evil, evil torture," she hissed, glancing around, as if all of the suits, ties and silks were about to murder her.

"Are you _kidding_? Do you have _any_ idea how many hot, rich men are here tonight?" Chandra questioned. Loli laughed; sometimes her friend was so superficial it was just amusing. Chandra was one of Joan's best friends; she was the advertising executive of _Clarity_, the magazine Joan worked for. Loli hadn't thought about it before, but she realised how stupid and narcissistic it was to name a fashion and beauty magazine after yourself.

"Hmm… they're all old," Loli replied, glancing around. "Although, that guy Joan is talking to looks pretty fit," she commented, glancing over to her step-sister. She was talking to a tall, well built man with spiked strawberry blonde hair and bright green eyes; he was _very_ cute, with a sort of goofy smile on his face. He looked like he had just been struck by cupid as he stared into Joan's eyes.

"That's Cale Bingley – he's a part owner of Bingley & Hurst, the publishing company," she explained. "_Clarity_ is funded his company, he's the brother of the Ice Queen," she continued, indicating the Norse Goddess standing by his side, looking around the room with a distinct sense of superiority.

"He looks like he's completely in love with Joan already," commented Loli. Chandra shrugged.

"He's like that," she replied. "But then again, that happens to everyone who meets Joan," she added.

"Drat, he's so cute," she said thoughtfully.

"Hold your horses Loli, I'm waiting for the big catch tonight," Chandra countered. "Cale Bingley is rolling in it, but compared to _this guy_, he's a peasant," she explained.

"Let me guess, he's eighty-five with some sort of terminal disease?" Loli laughed. Chandra rolled her eyes.

"_No_, he's young, fit, and _gorgeous_," she countered pointedly. "I'll tell you what though, I've never heard him say more than three words at a time, or give something even _slightly_ resembling a smile," she added, somewhat disheartened.

"Well, hopefully you'll melt his ice heart, Chandra," Loli replied. Chandra grinned wickedly with the possibilities.

"Come on then, let's go perve on Cale whilst he's making lovey-dovey eyes at Joan," she suggested, taking Loli by the arm and leading her through the crowd. They ignored the glances and looks, or at least, Loli ignored the glances she received, she was well aware that she was the youngest person there.

"Cale, this is Chandra and Lovely, Chandra works for the magazine and Lovely is Joan's step-sister," Clarity said, her tones dripping with boredom as they approached.

"Chandra Lucas, pleased to meet you," Chandra said, stepping forwards. She shook hands with Cale, who tore his eyes away from Joan and smiled warmly.

"Hi, pleased to meet you," Cale greeted, before turning to Loli. "Lovely, right?" he questioned curiously.

"It's Loli, actually," she shrugged.

"Loli? Wow, what a cool name," he praised. He was completely unlike his sister; he was grinning, and seemed very relaxed, quite unlike Clarity. "Is your last name Bettenne too, then?" he asked, glancing towards Joan.

"Actually, you probably don't want to know my last name," laughed Loli. "I wish I had a nice, _normal_ name like Joan, though," she added. Cale grinned, and looked back at Joan.

"I was just talking to your step-sister, I can't believe we haven't met before," he commented.

"Joan's a bit quiet like that," laughed Loli. Joan blushed slightly, but didn't look upset. "_I,_ on the other hand, could talk your head off. You probably don't want to get into a conversation with me," she advised. Cale laughed, his green eyes twinkling.

"Charming. Simply charming. My, Whit is going to _love_ you," he replied, grinning from ear to ear. Loli arched a playful smile, and shrugged her shoulders. The air felt so very stuffy, and the night air was growing warm.

"Sorry, I'm just going to get a drink," she announced.

"Hurry back though, my friend is going to arrive soon and I'd love to introduce you and your step-sister to him," Cale replied. Loli smiled in return.

"Really? Do you think that Fitz would be able to understand her?" Clarity questioned rudely, probably making the assumption that Loli couldn't understand English.

"I'll try to speak real slow, ma'am," Loli replied sarcastically, before gripping Charlotte's arm, and dragging her over to find a waiter bearing beverages.

"She's a bit of a bitch, should've mentioned it earlier," Chandra said sheepishly when they were out of earshot.

"Meh, I pity the lonely little brain cell she has," Loli replied, taking two glasses of champagne from a passing penguin suit. "This music is a bit stuffy," she commented, taking a sip of her drink.

"Yeah, but I doubt that they would appreciate your tastes, Loli," Chandra laughed. "So what do you want to do?" she asked, drinking from her own glass.

"You keep on mingling, I'll pretend that my ipod is playing me breathing instructions," she suggested with a grin, pulling her bright pink ipod nano from her purse and putting the headphones in, The Killers immediately downing out Bach.

"_It's not over tonight,_

_Just give me one more chance to make it right,_

_I may not make it through the night,_

_I won't go home without you"_

"Loli, that is _unbelievably_ rude," came a hissing voice in her ear, as a headphone was ripped out, Maroon Five ending abruptly.

Loli's eyes immediately centred on Joan. She had been standing behind Chandra, who was talking to another group of stuffed shirts of behalf of her father's company for the past twenty minutes, the only tolerable way that the evening could really be passed.

"Meh, these people can stuff it up their behinds," Loli responded. A few people were staring as Joan gripped her step-sister's arm and pulled her to the side.

"Take them out," she ordered harshly. "Even Clarity and Cale noticed. Take them out," she demanded. Loli sighed, and removed her headphones.

"Sorry Joan," she replied, glancing around the room. Everyone was acting as if nothing had happened, avoiding scandal was second nature to these people, she was well aware. "You dragged me to this thing! You know full well that I _don't_ do stuffy formal events," she hissed quietly. Joan only rolled her eyes, and gripped Loli's arm. A sudden sense of shame filled Loli – had she embarrassed her step-sister?

But by the grin on Cale's face and playful tone as he asked her what she was listening to she could tell very quickly that she hadn't embarrassed anyone, only amused.

"Maroon Five," Loli replied, somewhat distractedly. Her attention was caught but a somehow familiar, handsome, brooding face featuring slightly lengthy dark hair and incredibly pale silver eyes connected to the body of Adonis approaching, a drink in hand. He was walking around people, avoiding conversation as he wound his way through the crowd, in the direction of Clarity, Cale, Joan and Loli. He looked familiar, like she had seen him before, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. He was so ridiculously attractive that she assumed she would have remembered him had they met before, but for the life of her she simply couldn't remember it.

"Oh, girls, this is Fitz, the friend I mentioned earlier," Cale announced suddenly. Loli snapped back into reality, her eyes once more seeking out the handsome man. He was right in front of her, glancing over Joan before his gaze turned to Loli. He frowned slightly, and looked at her for a few moments longer than necessary or polite, before turning back to Cale.

"_Darling_, it's _so_ good to see you," crooned Clarity. She had been silent when Loli joined the group again, sending a few disapproving glares but mostly keeping her nose pointed in the air.

"Clarity," he acknowledged stiffly.

It all came flooding back to Loli immediately with the sound of his rich, deep voice, accented in a decidedly British manner. Against all odds, it was _Mr Posh_ from the airport in Tokyo.

She stopped her mouth from dropping to the floor, her eyes widening in shock and realisation.

"…and this is Loli, Joan's step-sister," she heard Cale say, as she glanced back to the speaker. She hoped that she hadn't missed anything important. Mr Posh simply stared back at Loli, so she fixed her gaze up at him. He was rather tall.

"It's a pleasure," he said, bowing his head slightly, his tone hinted only slightly with sarcasm. Obviously _he_ recalled their meeting as well.

"The pleasure is all mine," she retorted with hidden distain. She dipped ever so slightly as a respectful response to his small bow, and was quite startled when he took her small hand in his large one, and _kissed it_.

'Weird', thought Loli as she accepted her hand back. Mr Posh turned back to Cale, ignoring her. She hid back a grimace. It was an annoyingly small world.

"Loli!" a voice hissed in her ear. She spun around instantly, to come face to face with Chandra.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" she squealed quietly, leading Chandra away from Joan, Mr Posh, Cale and his sister the Ice Princess.

"Do you see that guy over there?" Chandra whispered, lowering her head and her voice. Loli glanced back at the group; her face fell on Mr Posh briefly, who seemed to have been looking at her at the exact same time, before she whipped her head back to Chandra. "Tall one, dark hair, _really_ hot," she clarified.

"Yeah, I just got introduced to him, his name is Fitz or something like that," she replied, rolling her eyes. "What?" she asked, noticing Chandra's wide eyes.

"Do you have _any_ idea who he _is_?" Chandra questioned in disbelief.

"Not really, and I don't want to know either," she replied. "From the Ralph Lauren, Calvin Kline, Georgio Armani parade that I just witnessed when he walked in, he's rich, right?" she questioned. Chandra only nodded.

"He's… _absurdly_ rich," she replied breathlessly.

"I don't like the absurdly rich. But I gathered that he's wealthy," she acknowledged. Indeed, she had noticed his clothing. He wore a very fashionable tailored light grey three-piece suit with a white Oxford shirt beneath the vest and a silk cravat knotted like a tie, in a grey to match the suit and vest. She had understood him to be rich when she saw him in the airport as well; poor people didn't own private jets.

"God Loli, I hate to break it to you – but your father has practically _nothing, _you have to look after yourself!" Chandra stressed, as Loli scowled.

"I don't need a rich man, Chandra," she said coolly. Chandra only rolled her eyes in response.

"You know what? In high society – like _this_ – independence doesn't exist, and especially not for women," she began pointedly. "We can't _get_ anywhere without men, Loli, you need one by your side if you're going to win this game," she added.

"Right. That's bullshit, and I'm not going to _be _a part of high society, so I don't give a damn," Loli replied. Chandra sighed, and shook her head slightly.

"One day Loli, you'll see it…" she said simply, before taking her friend by the arm and leading her back to the group.

"Oh! And this is Chandra Lucas," Cale announced, when they returned. Chandra smiled beguilingly up at Mr Posh, who merely glanced down at her, and turned away. Chandra hid the disappointed look threatening to take over her features, but Loli saw it. She gave an annoyed glance over at Mr Posh, who had been staring at her again. Joy.

"Pleasure," muttered Mr Posh finally, upon realising that some sort of acknowledgement for Chandra's presence was required.

"Fitz, darling? You were introduced to Lowly; Joan's stepsister, right?" Clarity questioned Mr Posh, clinging to his arm with peach-painted talons, and a simpering smile with slightly pointed teeth, making her look positively possessed.

"It's Loli, LO – LEE," she reminded her pointedly, but her irritation was lost on Clarity.

"Perhaps you should get a name tag?" Mr Posh suggested, turning to Loli, his tone suggesting bored superiority. Loli scowled.

"I would, but I'd probably put it in Japanese, and apparently that's a language not worthy of learning," she responded simply. He looked her up and down briefly, before turning back to Cale. Loli's jaw clenched, he hadn't said anything particularly offensive, but his entire manner seemed to be some sort of personal insult to her. She turned away from him. Chandra gave a weak, sort of disappointed smirk before she allowed Loli to take her away from the group.

"He's a man-bitch, I know," Loli said. Chandra had been hurt by his obvious disinterest, but was comforted by Loli's grin.

"A _hot_ man-bitch," Chandra added. The two couldn't help but laugh, and it dispelled any disheartened feelings from the atmosphere. Joan caught Loli's eye, excused herself from her party, and headed over to her stepsister and friend.

"I hope you two are behaving," she said in a teasing, stern voice. Loli rolled her eyes playfully.

"Aren't I always?" she responded. "Okay, maybe I don't…" she admitted, upon seeing both Joan's and Chandra's doubtful expressions. "Do you guys want to get a drink or something?" she asked, glancing over at the open bar.

"I need to pee, actually, but could you guys wait for me? _Please_?" Joan begged, using her big blue eyes to her distinct advantage. Chandra and Loli sighed in union.

"We'll be at the bar, hurry up," Chandra replied, tugging Loli by the arm. They both got drinks, champagne for Chandra and lolly water for Loli, and glanced around the room. It was filled with stuffed shirts and simpering blondes. Cale's eyes met Loli's – he had been scanning the room to see if Joan had returned.

"He seems to like her a lot," Chandra commented, reading her mind.

"Yeah, they'd be cute together," Loli responded distractedly. She couldn't help but look at Mr Posh. He really _was_ ridiculously handsome, in a haughty, proud sort of manner. He looked uncomfortable, but also at home amongst the suits, ties and gowns littering the room, particularly with Clarity, the simpering, strawberry blonde haired woman attaching herself to his arm, her hair shining copper under the chandelier. She glanced back at Chandra, who was staring at her with a smirk on her face. She blushed pink, and turned back to the bar.

"He's hot. He'd do well for you," she said simply. Loli rolled her eyes and sipped her drink.

"He's probably about thirty or something, and besides – we would have nothing in common," she objected. "I mean, that guy is _oozing_ money and class, this is probably one of my most expensive dresses, and it isn't worth the price of his socks," she added. "And he looks so – so – so stuck up! Why would I _ever_ be interested in a guy like that?" she questioned exasperatedly. Chandra only smirked again.

"Me thinks she doth protest too much," she commented simply. Loli rolled her eyes again.

"Right. Sure. That's it," she snapped in response. "I'm going to call dibs on a couch over there, join me when you're a bit more sober," she added, taking her drink, and edging around the crowds of people. There were a few chintzy lounges and ottoman couches in one corner, not far from where she was talking with Cale, Clarity and Mr Posh, and she immediately slipped off her shoes, and fell back on one, feeling remarkably like she was at a shrink's office, being psycho-analysed. But at least she was hidden from the party by the back of the couch, she rationalised.

She pulled her ipod out of her clutch purse, and put the headphones in her ear. She paused the song that was playing and began searching through artists to find something to take her mind off the party, and was about to settle on some Regina Spektor when she heard a voice cut through the sounds of false laughter and clinking champagne glasses.

"… sorry about that, she can be a little trying sometimes," she heard Cale say, his tone requesting forgiveness and patience.

"'A little trying?' That woman infuriates me; can't you get her to leave me alone? She's _your_ sister," snapped a deep, brooding voice. Mr Posh.

"Not really, she's determined as all hell, and you're perfect for her, in her mind," Cale informed his friend.

"Apart from the fact that I'm _not interested in her_?" questioned Mr Posh pointedly.

"Well, yeah…" Cale muttered sheepishly. "But don't worry! There are some really pretty girls here tonight, so your time wasn't _completely_ wasted!" he said brightly. Mr Posh scoffed.

"Hardly."

"Come on, didn't you see Joan? She's _gorgeous_, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he exclaimed.

"She's generically beautiful, I'd admit, but she looks too… clingy, she's just another gold-digger using her pretty face to get what she wants," he responded. Loli scowled. It only enforced her bad opinion of him anyway.

"You can't be trusted with an opinion. You don't like blondes," Cale laughed. "But still, she's an angel. But what about her little stepsister? She's gorgeous too, _not_ generically, but she has nice eyes, and even _Clarity_ said that her hair is pretty," he offered, as the tiniest smile crept onto Loli's face. She was glad that they couldn't see her behind the couch. "And you know how hard it is for my sister to compliment other women," he added.

"Lottie, or something like that, wasn't it?"

"Loli, actually," Cale corrected.

"Not interested." Mr Posh replied simply.

"Why the hell not? She's stunning, maybe not like Joan, but still, she's very nice; and funny too," he said convincingly.

"Honestly Caleb, I wouldn't risk my reputation by even _talking_ to someone like _that_," Mr Posh sniffed. "She looks about eighteen years old, she was dressed in some sort of bin liner, her hair can be used to direct incoming planes, I saw her with an _ipod_ in her ears in the middle of a ballroom, her accent obviously indicates that she probably hasn't even got a permeant residence, and for all we know she could be some backpacking tourist selling drugs to small children," her listed. Loli felt her face turn red with anger. "I wouldn't touch her. It'd be practically illegal – I admit that she's tolerable, but _nothing_ would possess me to go within a hundred mile radius of her at any point in time," he finished pointedly.

Loli was torn between the urge to storm over to him and stab him with the heel of her shoes, and the strong desire to burst into laughter. She didn't know where it came from, but it was the same humour that she had desperately wanted to express in the airport in Tokyo. He was such a _sook_.

"Jeez, I wasn't asking you to _marry_ her, just talk to her," Cale replied, his tone shocked and slightly irritated.

"Cale, I wouldn't even take her home for a one nighter."

Loli's cheeks flushed, and she practically grit her teeth in anger. She was barely conscious of Mr Posh making his excuses to Cale, ordering him to get back to his 'angel' and allow him to try and salvage some of his reputation. A million things were running through her mind, and at the centre was the rude, arrogant, crass, proud, narcissistic, snobbish, _man bitch_, ridiculously attractive face of Mr Posh, jeering.

She sat up, ripping her ipod out of her ears and stuffing it back in her purse. She still couldn't believe that she actually wanted to _laugh_, but it had always been in her nature to brush such comments off.

But still, it was a pretty rude thing to say. She self-consciously tugged at one of her long, silky scarlet curls. It was her natural colour. Was it really that bad? Could it really be used to 'direct incoming planes'? And her dress didn't look like a bin-liner, did it?

She shook her head and headed over to the bar, where Chandra was still sitting, chatting casually to a plain looking man. Joan was back talking to Cale and Clarity, and Mr Posh was standing on the outskirts of the party, sipping champagne. When she looked over at him he immediately turned away, as if he had been staring at her. Probably trying to determine what kind of highlighter she used to colour her hair.

She couldn't help a tickle of laughter rising in her throat as she took her place next to Chandra, who immediately began ignoring the plain man and focused her attention on her friend.

"You'll never believe what I just heard," she giggled.

"Was it the best joke in the history of the universe?" Chandra questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

"I dunno, it's in the running," laughed Loli. She relayed the details of the conversation to her friend, who looked at her doubtfully.

"And you find this… funny?" she questioned curiously, trying to understand her friend's reaction to such a slander.

"I dunno, he's such a prick, I can't help it," she giggled. Her amusement caught on to Chandra, and within minutes they were laughing freely, the situation so terribly hilarious that it caused the plain man (who hadn't moved) to ask what the joke was.

This only made them laugh even more.

It was a good couple of minutes before they were under control again, Chandra stopping before she revealed to the ballroom that she snorted when she found something _too_ funny, Loli's tinkling, almost childlike laughter coming to an end with deep breathes to compose herself.

"My God, we're embarrassing," Loli said, her eyes still twinkling brightly. "Come on, we'd better say hello to Joan – or else she'll think that we don't love her anymore," she said, taking Chandra by the arm and leading her through couples.

"Where have you two been?" Joan asked curiously, when Loli and Chandra took their places in the small group of people, consisting of Joan, Cale and Clarity.

"Comedy festival," Loli muttered, both she and Chandra giving a small muffled giggle. "Sorry – personal joke, I'll fill you in later Joan," she added, upon receiving a questioning glance.

"So Loli, what do you do?" Cale asked curiously, trying to move the conversation along.

"Err… I'm an artist, to put it simply," she replied, shrugging. "Graphical illustration and that sort of stuff, websites, band shirts and tour booklets, magazines, books, you know," she explained.

"And do you actually get _paid_ to draw pictures?" Clarity questioned pointedly. Obviously she could understand her accent by that stage, thought Loli.

"Yep! Sure is the life, and I use the money to buy the really _good_ crayons, the ones that you twist at the bottom!" she exclaimed brightly, her tone sarcastic and slightly mocking. She heard a small noise behind her. She glanced around, it was Mr Posh. He had apparently joined the conversation.

The noise he had made was sort of halfway between a scoff and a snort, had she not known the man she would have thought that it might be a muffled sort of sign of amusement.

"A real luxury for you, I'm sure," sniffed Clarity, staring down her nose at Loli.

"And so where do you live, Loli?" Cale questioned, trying to be rid of his sister's rude interruptions. "I can't seem to get my head around your accent, it's just a mixed bag of nationalities," he grinned.

"I just moved into London yesterday," she replied, shrugging. "I lived in Tokyo for two years before that, umm… then it was Oxford for three years," she explained thoughtfully. "Err… Paris for a while, my Mum still lives there, and Iceland as well, that was about… a year, maybe?" she continued, not noticing people's incredulous expressions. "Australia for a little while, very warm there, umm… New Caledonia! I lived there for… wow, maybe two years? On and off though," she added. "And Africa too, Egypt, Kenya, Zimbabwe, and I lived in Kyoto as well for a little while, I was only small then, and I've seen a lot of Spain, mainly Barcelona and Madrid, and collectively I must have spent about four years on different parts of the Mediterranean, and… well, New York was a bit of a novelty for me for a while too, so was Ireland. Ireland was nice. Very green," she grinned in memory. "And San Francisco too, for about… three years, I guess," she finished.

"Why did you move around so much?" Cale questioned, his tone both curious and incredulous. "I mean, wow… I don't know anyone whose ever travelled that much, except maybe Fitz here, he's been all over the globe," he added, but Loli only shrugged.

"Mum and Dad travelled a lot, mostly because of Dad's job, but I guess it was more like he got the job because of his travelling, and I guess I picked up the itchy feet bug," she grinned.

"And what do your mother and father do?" Clarity asked pointedly. Loli frowned slightly, she knew exactly what Clarity wanted to know.

"Mum is a fashion designer, she lives in Paris now, and her husband owns a company that makes machinery, and my Dad was a travel writer, he's retired now though," she explained. She was guarded with her response, but to be perfectly honest, she didn't care what that uptight woman thought.

Clarity gave a superior sort of smirk. She turned away from Loli, and wrapped her arm around Mr Posh's. He didn't look surprised at her show of affection, simply irritated. Perhaps he was very personal with their relationship? She could comprehend a situation wherein she would care, regardless, but still, had he been speaking of Clarity to Cale earlier? She presumed so, because she didn't see any other Bingleys in the area. He certainly didn't _sound_ like he enjoyed her presence.

"How very quaint. It must have been quite a luxury for you to travel so much," Clarity sneered. "Caleb and I would travel a great deal when we were children, always first class, and we've seen some of the finest hotels of the world," she boasted.

"Well I've seen some of the finest youth hostels of the world," Loli replied with a false grin. _'What am I doing here_?' she thought to herself. Clarity gave a smirk.

"I'm sure," she replied, before turning away from her. That didn't bother Loli at all.

"So where's your favourite place in the world?" Cale asked curiously, once again trying to draw attention away from his rude sister.

"Tokyo," she replied instantly. Cale laughed at her enthusiasm and haste in answering.

"Sure you don't want to think about it first?" he laughed, his green eyes twinkling. Loli looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Nup, definitely Tokyo," she grinned.

"Why?"

She turned to Mr Posh, frowning slightly, but mostly shocked at his sudden show of communication.

"I love it. The fashion, the food, the people, everything," she replied. "It's so different to our Western culture, people there know how to express themselves, it's colourful and vibrant and alive," she gushed, turning back to Cale, Joan and Chandra, not even bothering to look at Clarity, who was glaring at her anyway. She could talk for hours about Japan, if allowed to.

"One would think that the culture of Japan would deter you from Tokyo," Mr Posh said. Loli glanced back at him, and narrowed her baby blue eyes pointedly.

"On the contrary, the culture was what originally attracted me to Tokyo – I think I just pointed that out," she countered. "Besides, what do you know about Japan? Other than a few phrases from a Lonely Planet book, I mean," she added.

"Whilst on the surface, some aspects of Japan are how you say 'colourful', the entire culture is based around extreme discipline, family respect and, for woman, utter compliancy to the wishes of males," he began, ignoring her last comment. "You're not _truly_ interested in Japan, just the pop-culture centralising in Tokyo," he continued.

"Would you agree that Tokyo is different to any other place you've ever been?" she asked, folding her arms against her chest and drawing herself up to her full height, ready to pounce. But her full height was still only came up to his chest.

"I would concede that much – whether the difference is a positive one or not is regardless, I presume," he drawled. "And a superficial difference is also unimportant too, most likely," he added. His storm coloured eyes didn't leave hers.

"But it's different. Regardless of what that difference is, it's what attracts me to the place – and why I feel at home there," she snapped in response. "Over twenty million people live in Tokyo, _sir_, you would presume that a few of them must like it, or else the population would be considerably smaller," she added cuttingly. He only stared at her in reply. "I'm going to get a drink," she announced. She turned on heel and headed to the bar, with no intention of returning to the group.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" was the sharp, annoyed cry of Chandra only a few minutes after her escape. Loli was already seated at the bar, a glass of lolly-water in her hand. She was quite surprised that they even had a bar, due to the amount of waiters wandering around with champagne.

"Err… drinking," she replied. "Not that fond of it myself, after a couple of glasses I just don't trust myself, but I think tonight calls for it, don't you?" she questioned rhetorically.

"Loli – do you have _any_ idea who that man is?" she hissed, glancing back at Mr Posh.

"Umm… Hitler?" she suggested, taking another sip of her drink. "Mussolini? MacArthur? Hang on – he's Lucifer, isn't he!" she continued, slamming her hand against her forehead as if she had just realised a great secret. Chandra gritted her teeth in irritation.

"Fine, you can play your little mind games," she snapped. "You can dance around and make witty little comments, but you can do it back over there," she practically growled. Loli blinked her big eyes, now a dark blue, and frowned.

"And _why_?" she questioned. Chandra rolled her eyes, and gripped her wrist.

"Because you _came_ to this party, and now you have to behave," she responded pointedly, leading her back to the group she had previously attempted to abandon. She groaned miserably and stopped pulling against Chandra. She had no other option.

"And so she returns," grinned Cale, when Loli rejoined the group of people, and Chandra released her arm from her iron grip.

"I'm in such high demand that I have to do constant rounds," Loli replied with a cheeky grin. Cale laughed heartily, proving that he had a good sense of humour. His eyes twinkled brightly as he turned his head to glance over at Joan, and his grin grew. Loli smiled, she could tell that he was into her already.

"So tell me, Loli, how long do you intend on staying in England?" asked Clarity suddenly. Her question seemed rather spontaneous and random, because she hadn't said anything much to Loli, simply stared at her with the expression of someone who had just ate a whole lemon. Her colourless eyes sharpened as she glared at Loli, her grip tightening on Mr Posh's arm. Once again, her tone leaked false sincerity and poorly hidden distain, not to mention something cold and detached that seemed mildly threatening.

"I'm not sure. I'll leave when I want to," she answered, with slight distraction. Mr Posh was still staring at her. Her manner gave her the impression that he was not used to people arguing with him – she wondered if anyone had ever said the word 'no' to him before. He put his expression down to his distaste – she probably shouldn't have argued with him at all, but it didn't bother her particularly.

"So no great life plan then?" she questioned. Loli hid back a sigh of exasperation.

"Sure. _My_ life plan involves getting home tonight," she retorted. "And as soon as possible," she added under her breath.

"You must be _very_ grateful to your sister, Joan, for inviting you tonight," Clarity began, although from her tone of voice she probably didn't care if Loli was listening or not. "You probably aren't familiar with this kind of… society, I can imagine," she drawled, with a small, hardly suppressed smirk at her supposed display of wit.

"Yeah, well, she always has been a complete angel," Loli replied sarcastically, rolling her bright blue eyes.

"But you don't look comfortable here, I'm afraid," she added coolly. Loli snorted, and rolled her eyes.

"What was your first clue?" she asked sarcastically.

"And tell me, Lollipop, are you educated?" Clarity questioned, inspecting one of her nails with extreme curiosity.

"Yes, I am, actually," replied Loli, frowning. "I have a degree in illustrative design," she added, sensing that some more information was necessary.

"My, you're educated, you're well travelled, your mother is a fashion designer; I'm quite surprised that we don't move in the same social circles," she announced with a superior smirk. Loli hid back an aghast expression and resisted the urge to punch the bitch in the face.

"It's pleasing to hear that I meet _your_ social standards, but maybe the reason why we haven't previously met is because _you_ don't meet _mine_," Loli replied coolly. Clarity looked affronted and burnt for a minute, Cale gave a low 'oooh', but she threw it back with an obviously false laugh and a toss of her head.

"Oh Lu-Lu, you're simply delicious!" she practically squealed, her false admiration so thick that she could probably kill someone with it. "I can see that we're going to be the _best_ of friends, and since Gigi moved back North I've been so _bereft_ of good company, I would _love_ to have another little 'dolly' to play with," she giggled, placing a perfectly manicured hand on Loli's arm for a moment, supposedly as some kind of show of affection. "Don't you think she'd be just _perfect_, Fitz?" she asked, turning to Mr Posh.

Loli practically seethed in irritation. She glanced over at Mr Posh, who was staring at her curiously.

"I'm sure," he said tonelessly, his stormy eyes not leaving Loli's face.

"Yes, I think that her _fine eyes_ will make a truly wonderful addition, don't you?" she asked, almost teasingly. Mr Posh blinked, and glanced over at Clarity, looking remarkably like she had publicly insulted him.

"Yes…" he muttered.

Loli just stared back and forth in confusion. From what she could gather, the crazy, gaudy strawberry-blonde woman wanted to collect her, making her one of her 'dolls', and Mr Posh thought she would be a good 'addition'.

'England is weird', she thought to herself.

"Oh dear, Loli, it looks like you've just been bought," Cale chuckled humorously. "Careful there Clarity, she might look like one of your porcelain dolls, but I have a suspicion she's a bit tougher than that," he added, the twinkle once more growing in his eye as he glanced at his sister.

"Quiet, Caleb, she shall be my new Alannah Hill and Betsey Johnson doll, provided she keeps that pretty little mouth of hers shut," hissed Clarity, before looking back to Loli with a smirk on her face.

She got a sudden sense of dread shooting up her spine. She suddenly disliked Joan a _great_ deal for dragging her to that party.

"Oh… kay…" murmured Loli slowly. "Right. You collect people," she stated, frowning slightly.

"Not just any 'people', Li-Lo," Clarity cut in quickly. "I recognise potential, and I seek it out," she informed her smugly. "I like to keep my dolls very close to me, why, it's almost as if they were my puppets sometimes!" she laughed. Loli cast a doubtful expression over at Mr Posh, who was still in her grip. She looked him up and down, and hid back a snort of laughter. So did Cale, when he realised what she was getting too. Mr Posh scowled in a rather flustered way, and, as if just to prove that he _wasn't _completely under Clarity's control, he stepped away from her slightly.

"Hiya Ken," she said cheerfully, as Mr Posh's scowl became more pronounced, and Cale let out a burst of laughter. Loli grinned cheekily.

"God Clarity, I think you may have finally picked a decent doll, she's certainly witty," Cale chuckled.

"Wit isn't required," sniffed Clarity pointedly.

"Is intellect?" Loli questioned innocently.

"You're remarkably cynical," stated Mr Posh suddenly. Loli laughed slightly at the thought, _she_ was cynical? Did he _own_ a mirror?

"And you're remarkably hypocritical," she retorted. He quirked an eyebrow with intrigue.

"And how so?" he questioned lightly.

"Calling me cynical is looking at me in the most cynical of lights, which in turn makes _you_ cynical, and calling me cynical when you're cynical yourself is certainly quite hypocritical, wouldn't you say?" she replied, with fake sweetness. She arched a playful smile. "Well?"

"I – what?" he replied, slightly shocked by her response. "I suppose," he muttered, frowning slightly. He tore his eyes away from her, only making Loli grin even more. She fancied that she had gotten the best of him, again.

"What the hell were they all going on about, when they were talking about me being a doll and everything?" Loli questioned, the moment that she, Joan and Chandra climbed into a cab.

The party had ended without too much disaster or complaint, Loli had managed to charm her way out of offence, but that didn't make her feel any happier about being forced to attend the ridiculous excuse for an evening. But at least Joan had enjoyed herself, she hit it off very well with Cale Bingley, he was trailing after her like a lost puppy the whole night. Loli had mostly ignored Mr Posh, who had nothing to say to her anyway, he only seethed, glaring at her for the rest of the night. Clarity had fawned over her, one moment being overly sincere and the next belittling and cold, and unreasonably rude, trying to make her look a fool.

"And why was she being such a bitch to me?" she questioned. Joan sighed, and Chandra looked at her with a touch of jealousy.

"When you walked away, Clarity was complaining about you," Joan began, as Loli snorted, and rolled her eyes.

"Big shock there," she replied sarcastically.

"She was talking about how rude you had been to Fitz, but he said that he didn't care, that you were 'interesting'," she explained. Loli looked at her doubtfully. "Clarity didn't like that. She tried to get him to say he was in love with you or something, and he admitted that you have very 'fine eyes'," Joan continued.

"Because _that's_ not weird," she muttered, her sarcasm not fading.

"That's why Clarity was acting weirdly, one moment criticising you and the next, she collected you," she informed her.

"I didn't get that whole 'collection' and 'doll' thing," Loli admitted, glancing out the window as London zoomed past.

"You are _so_ lucky," sighed Chandra. Loli stared at her curiously. "Clarity is the social _Queen_ of England," she began. "She does this thing, she picks up protégées, or something like that, young, pretty girls that she sort of moulds into society, she showers them with clothes and gifts, mostly from specific designers, last year she had a Gucci one," she explained. "She calls them her 'dolls'. She dresses them up, takes them out, gets photos taken of them, most of her dolls end up marrying _extremely_ rich men or becoming super models or stuff like that, it's sort of like… she has her own, real life Barbie dolls, it's every girl's dream to be one," she continued.

"Umm… obviously not, because _that sounds like absolute shit_ to me," snapped Loli. "She probably only did it to play around with Mr Posh," she added.

"Mr Posh?" questioned Joan laughingly. "Do you mean Fitzwhitlam?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"That's the one," she replied. Chandra only shook her head, and shared a secretive look with Joan.

"I can't wait to see what happens," she grinned. Loli only looked doubtfully between the two. She didn't like the look they shared at _all_.

**A/N: I luuuuuuuuurve reviews :D**


	5. I Missed the Bright Side

**A/N: Meh… too sleepy to give you long, touchy-feelly author's note…**

**Disclaimer: My name is Evie.**

**Not Jane.**

"Oh _crap_!" screamed Loli, opening one bleary eye and centring it on her pink sleeping cat alarm clock. It was telling her that she had… fifteen minutes before she needed to be at work.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" she squealed, jumping out of bed, leaping over clothes, books and an empty mug of hot chocolate to get into the bathroom.

A two minute shower was all she had time for, because the quickest she would be able to get to work was about seven minutes, and she still had to get changed, and have something to eat. She almost snorted at the thought. She wouldn't even have time for coffee, she was running that late.

Clad only in a mint green towel, she dashed back into her room, water dripping all over the floor as she pulled open her wardrobe door.

Joan was right. Everything she owned _was_ a joke.

She pulled out one of her most 'sophisticated' outfits, a waist high black skirt with a gauzy cream blouse, and pulled it on between brushing her hair, and drying herself with the towel.

"Shit, fuck, _shit_," she swore repetitively as she glanced over at the clock again, she had eleven minutes to get there.

She pulled open the top drawer of her dressing table, and dug around for a pair of stockings. She hurriedly tore past the pink ones with the white love hearts, or the white thigh-highs with the white lace tops, to find a packet of not even opened shear black ones. She pulled them on whilst slipping her feet into a pair of black heels, and running the brush through her hair one last time.

She did her makeup as quickly as she could, a bit of blush, some eyeliner and mascara, and some lip balm, before she ran into the kitchen.

She had been intelligent enough to make sure she had everything she needed for work the night before, _and_ in her very cute oversized half briefcase and half purse, complete with a jingling frog charm. She grabbed her bag and coat, knowing fully well that she had no time for breakfast, and headed to the door.

"I hate my life," she muttered repetitively as she banged her head on the elevator door. The moment the doors opened she ran out, clutching her purse as she pulled on her jacket and rushed into the street.

It was raining.

More than raining, in fact, it was _pouring_.

"Stupid bloody England!" she cried at the sky, before she glanced at her Hello Kitty wristwatch. She had seven minutes.

She dashed through the street, the busy footpaths lined with people, all seeking shelter from the rain under store architraves and umbrellas. She wasn't so lucky, and every twenty seconds would be exposed to the downpour, rushing through to expose herself to minimal dampness.

She had three minutes left, and about four minutes of ground to cover. She picked up her pace, heels clapping the wet ground in timeless frustration. She _couldn't _be late to her first day of work. She just _couldn't_.

"Excuse me! Yes, I'm sorry, I'm _really_ late!" she cried, rushing past someone with their phone pressed to their ear. He sent her an angry glare, but she continued to run. She reached the final intersection before the grand, sleek Darcy Designs building, and, as luck would have it, cars were zooming over the striped crossing, and the little red man was telling her not to walk.

She groaned in frustration. Angrily pushing the shiny silver button, she stood on the edge of the sidewalk, as closely to the road as she could, so that the moment the cars stopped coming, she could make the final sprint into work.

She checked her watch. She had one minute to get there. The downpour had turned into a misty drizzle, and thankfully, she was completely drenched, only damp.

"Oh _FUCK_!" she screamed, when a car almost skid into her, coming dangerously close to the kerb. Her life was saved, but as the wheels slid over the soaking asphalt, and right into probably the biggest puddle in London.

Completely soaking Loli.

She wanted to wail in anger, but the little red man turned green and she had to cross, or else she would be _really_ late, instead of comparatively late. She was supposed to be at work at that very moment. She hurried across the street, and before she knew it, she was two minutes late, and standing before a tall, streamlined black building, her entire chest constricting.

"Now or never," she whispered quietly to herself, walking through the metallic automatic doors with nervous anticipation.

The lobby looked like it was practising Zen minimalism. Everything was either black, or white, or metal, and frightfully _clean_. Everything from the pure white floor to the polished black leather on the chairs screamed good taste, and expense. She took off her coat, which had taken the brunt of the damp, and glanced at her reflection in the surface of the doors she had just walked through. Her hair had seen better days, but other than that she looked alright. She spent thirty seconds fixing her long scarlet curls, before she headed over to the front desk.

"Hi, umm, it's my first day here, and…" she began, as the secretary looked up. She evaluated her with a cool, slightly pronounced expression of distaste. She looked to be in her late twenties, with perfectly styled platinum blonde hair, a headset only making her look more professional. It also matched her little black suit.

"Which department?" she questioned immediately, as she began tapping away at her computer from behind the desk.

"Umm, Graphical Illustration," she answered, biting her lip softly as she looked around the large entrance hall. A few people were around, some waiting in chairs, some rushing from door to door with folders and papers held in their hands, a few people were at the water cooler, making slight conversation, and there were lines of people at different desks, all waiting to be spoken to.

"You must be the new Junior Assistant Director, then," she responded, as Loli nodded.

"Yes, and, umm, I don't know what I should be doing right now," she explained awkwardly.

"You're late, you know," the lady stated, as Loli rolled her eyes, and nodded. "We were expecting you five minutes ago," she added.

"Yeah, it was a fright out there, raining and everything," she said simply. The lady frowned pointedly.

"This folder has everything you need in it, your employee card, your tax forms, a list of staff in your sector, a brief overview of the building's layout, and some introductory information," she informed her, standing up, and turning to a filing cabinet. She pulled open the top drawer, rifled through for a minute, before passing Loli a black folder. "Mister Darcy is expecting you, his office is on the top floor, he will take care of everything else, before your supervisor and the head of your department will give you your orientation," she continued.

"Mister Darcy? You mean the CEO?" she questioned in disbelief. The lady cocked an eyebrow.

"_Yes_, the CEO," she answered. "He likes to meet all of his employees that will be going into any sort of position of authority," she added.

"Umm… alright," Loli muttered, stepping away from the front desk. She headed over to the elevators, opening her folder and starting to have a look.

There were a few people in the elevator with her, most of them looking tired and annoyed, so she didn't like her chances of saying hello. She was quite certain that making friends would be a bit of a difficult task.

She was the only one that got off at the top floor, the silver doors opening with a little chime. She walked out of the elevator nervously, and entered a reasonably large room, some more tasteful furniture and a desk, an almost identical blonde woman sitting behind it, tapping away at a computer.

She looked up when Loli entered, and nodded. Unsure of what this meant, she slowly stepped forwards, hoping that the secretary would acknowledge her with a _word_, at least.

"He's waiting for you. Go in, please," she suddenly heard.

"Oh – um, okay," she muttered. She looked over at the large black doors, and bit her lip. She had changed her life completely to suit this job, and she was _going_ to go through with it. She took a deep breath, and stepped towards the entrance to the office.

"You have _got_ to be shitting me."

The words came out of her mouth before she even knew them. Her chest tightened and she suddenly felt a _killer_ migraine coming on, not to mention her world crashing around her.

"Screw this, I'm going back to Tokyo," she muttered when the now familiar visage of none other than Mr Posh, otherwise known as Fitzwhitlam Darcy, owner, founder and CEO of Darcy Design – and now, her boss, glanced up at her with wide eyes.

"Wait!" he called, standing. Loli almost growled, and stopped, but didn't turn around.

"What?" she snapped angrily. "I'd like to leave with as much dignity as I can maintain, and you really aren't helping my escape," she informed him coolly, finally turning to face him.

"It's extremely unprofessional to walk out of a job before you've even started," he replied. Loli rolled her eyes in irritation, and glanced around the room, trying to avoid looking at _him_.

It was a fantastic office. It was very different to the rest of the building, instead of cool, streamlined, ultra-modern furniture and an almost sterile environment; it was much warmer, with rich woods and dark, patterned wallpaper, the furniture looking welcoming, not painful. He had a huge window overlooking the entire city, _with_ a balcony. There was also a small kitchen, a bathroom, and what looked like an entertainment room. It was actually larger than her _apartment,_ and it was only an office.

"Yeah, well this is just to pick up some extra cash. Most of my money comes from selling drugs to small children," she snapped, sending him a fiery glare. For a moment, she saw embarrassment flicker in his eyes, but before she had a chance to gloat it was gone.

"Sit down, you're being an idiot," Mr Posh – she supposed she had to start calling him 'Darcy' now – ordered, indicating a plush red leather chair before his large desk. She involuntarily made her way to the chair, sighing in irritation. "You would be a fool to let –" he began slowly.

"Let's try 'past occurrences', and go from there, shall we?"

" – past occurrences get in the way of professionalism," he continued. Loli wanted to snort in laughter, but she held it back. "You can drop the attitude, too, might I add," he threw in, as if he could read her mind.

"What attitude? I'm simply revelling in the fact that it's a small fucking word," she practically growled. "So what happens next, then?" she questioned coolly. Darcy pushed his brand-spanking-new Macbook to the side, and picked up a folder sitting on his desk.

She had to admit, that he _was_ pretty darn gorgeous. His incredibly pale eyes drove daggers into her skin, pressing down like white hot fire. She hated the way he affected her.

"What the hell were your parents _on_ when they named you?" he asked, scanning the contents of her folder in amazement.

"Dad was on marijuana, Mum dabbled a bit with LSD in the seventies, but she gave it up before I was born," she answered cheerfully. Darcy sent her an uneasy look, as if he wasn't sure if she was joking or not. She'd never admit that she was, in truth, being perfectly honest.

"Lolita Gardiner. Why would _anyone_ call their child Lolita?" he questioned in disbelief.

"Hey, the name itself is kind of cute!" she argued pointedly.

"But the connotations? Unless your parents never read the book," he muttered, continuing to inspect her file.

"Actually, I picked my name, I'll thank you very much," she snapped. He looked up in doubt.

"You did not."

"I did too! I was eight years old, and my parents decided that it was time I had a _normal_ name, because the other kids were teasing me," she informed him coolly, _trying_ not to sound like a petulant child.

"And you thought that 'Lolita' was a normal name?" he questioned incredulously.

"I was eight years old. Do you _really_ think that I had read the book?" she asked, feeling very close to crossing her arms and poking out her tongue. "I named myself after my favourite fashion style – Sweet Lolita," she explained.

"That's the one with all of the bows and ribbons and lace and… pink, isn't it?" Darcy questioned, as Loli nodded.

"It's ultra-cute, dripping with awesome-ness," she explained. He just shook his head in wonder.

"So what was your original name?" he asked.

"Moonbeam Starchild," she answered, Darcy's eyebrows rising into his fringe. He gave a small smirk, the closest thing to amusement she had ever seen on his face. "Starchild was my former last name, I took on my step-father's one when I realised _just_ how ridiculous it was," she explained.

"Do you have any brothers and sisters?" he asked with slight curiosity.

"I have one step-sister, Joan, and then on my father's side three half sisters, Lindsay, Kayte, and Mya, and on my mother's side two half-brothers and half-sisters, Nathaniel, Ezekiel and two half-sisters, Magdalen and Eve," she answered.

"Biblical names? Well, that's… odd," he muttered.

"What, and _Fitzwhitlam _isn't weird?" she asked coolly. He glared at her momentarily, reminding her that she was his employee, and she was getting out of line.

"Do you still want the job?" he asked her.

She looked thoughtful for a moment. Did she want it? It would mean that she would be working for _him_, but it was a good job, she would hardly have to see him, and Darcy Designs was an internationally acclaimed company, the best of the best.

"Yes," she said finally. Darcy nodded.

"For the first three months you're going to be working on a project for Song BMG's new website," he informed her. "Graphical Illustration is a fairly small department. You'll be supervising eight members of staff; and you will be a part of a group of twenty people who are under the supervision and instruction of the Senior Assistant Director of the department, and you will also be working in connection with the Digital Design department, which is about ten times the size," he explained in a bored, monotone, business-like tone. "Got it?" he asked, as she nodded.

"Got it," she repeated. "Can I go now?" she asked, her tone hinted with coolness.

"Please," he responded, in an even more detached voice. She stood, and left the office.

_What the FUCK have I gotten myself into_?

**A/N: Once again, I'm really sleepy. And I'm a bitch when I'm sleepy. So if you liked it, review. If you didn't like it, review. If you like pineapples, eat one. Need I say more?**

…

**Zzzzzzzzzz….**


	6. Dinner Time Blues

**A/N: Yay! More banter! I really should be developing the plot, but this is more amusing… I thought up some of these lines in yoga class. I've never had an idea whilst doing yoga before, but there you go.**

"Joan Maria Joy Bettenne – I am going to _murder_ you!" cried Loli, slamming the front door to her stepsister's apartment with a loud _bang_, before she stormed through the hallway, her red hair tossed back, her eyes glinting with fire.

She crossed her arms, radiating anger as she stood in the doorway to Joan's bedroom.

"Good. You're here too Chandra, now I can get this over with all at once," she practically growled.

"What are you talking about, Loli?" Joan questioned, as she ran a brush through her blonde locks. Chandra only stared at her doubtfully from her place on Joan's bed, sitting with her legs crossed as she flicked through a copy of _Clarity_.

"I'm talking about the fact that you two _knew_ that Mr Posh was going to be my boss in _two friggen days_, and you _still_ let me make an idiot out of myself!" she cried angrily. Chandra hid a snigger, and Joan shrugged.

"Would it have stopped you?" she asked. Loli gaped like a fish for a moment, her mind reeling.

"Wh – I – you – of _course_ it would –" she began, before realisation dawned on her. No, it probably _wouldn't_ have stopped have stopped her from putting that jerk in his place.

"Besides, it was _hilarious_," Chandra commented, with a sly grin. Loli seethed.

"Not so bloody '_hilarious_' when I walked into my first day of work today!" she snapped with great irritation, clenching her fists together.

"Oh, how was work, by the way?" Joan asked, turning quickly to face Loli.

"Fine. I have an office. It's kind of small, but it's an office," she replied tiredly. "Umm… I'm in charge of a few people, which is weird, because almost all of them are older than me, mostly I just edit and approve images and work on some of the tougher designs," she explained. "And I also have to monitor progress and that sort of stuff," she added, running a hand through her hair. She was exhausted. It was hard to settle in, but she felt like she was making progress, especially considering she had been thrown into the deep end the moment she entered the office.

"Do you like it?" Joan asked, turning back to her dresser, and holding up earrings, as if to compare.

"Well, I kind of love it," grinned Loli stupidly. "It's amazing. I mean, at Chibli we were all given pictures that we had to just colour in or ink or something like that, but… I don't know. I actually got to _think_ today, I got to do what I wanted and fiddle and create. I love it," she smiled.

"Well, you're lucky you got a good job then," Chandra commented. "So. Did you meet Darcy?" she asked, with a teasing smirk. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. In his office," she replied. "It was like stepping into the Arctic Circle. Man, that guy was a _jerk_," she continued. "It was like someone had shoved a ten-foot pole up his ass! He didn't smile at all! He _smirked_, like a stuck-up little brat, but… _man_! He is such a – such a –"

"Jerk?" Chandra offered, hiding her grin.

"Yes! He's a _complete_ jerk!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sure he's not really, Loli, he's probably quite nice," Joan interrupted. Loli glanced over at her; she was doing the finishing touches on her makeup. She suddenly noticed that she was wearing a gold cocktail dress, strappy shoes and her best jewellery.

"You look great. Where are you going?" she asked curiously. Joan blushed prettily before she put the mascara down, and sat back from the mirror.

"I'm going to dinner with Clarity," she answered, for some reason, the red in her cheeks rising.

"And is someone else coming along, possibly?" she asked teasingly.

"Well, maybe… someone might be…" she trailed off awkwardly, rising to her feet, the gorgeous dress sliding over her golden skin.

"Cale Bingley is going too," Chandra burst out suddenly.

"Thank _God_, because for a moment I thought you had a crush on that Clarity bitch," Loli exclaimed, making a deep sigh of relief. Joan only blushed even more.

"She should be here any minute now, actually," she muttered nervously, looking at her diamond wristwatch, a twenty-first birthday present to her from her father.

"Do you have any food?" Loli asked randomly, walking out of the bedroom.

"Not much, are you hungry?" Joan asked, following her out of the room.

"A bit," she answered. "Chan, did you want to go get some pizza with me?" she asked, crossing into the kitchen, and pulling open the fridge.

"Sorry, can't," she replied, with a sigh. "I have to go back upstairs, my mother is here," she explained. Chandra lived in the flat above Joan, which was how they became such close friends. She glanced down at her watch, and groaned. "I'd better be off, sorry Joan," she muttered, kissing her friend on both cheeks, before doing the same for Loli, and leaving the apartment.

"How did you even get here?" Joan asked curiously, as Loli pulled out a cup, and filled it with milk.

"Huh? Oh, it's only a little walk," she answered, shrugging her shoulders. "I came here after work, but of course, I had to stay overtime so I could get the hang of the bloody thing," she explained.

"But you _do_ like it, don't you?" Joan asked, as she picked up the purse she had been using that day, and started to swap the contents into a gold one to match the dress.

"Yeah," smiled Loli. She looked thoughtful for a moment, and the corners of her lip twitched. But the smile didn't fade.

"Well I'm happy for you, hun," Joan said smilingly, leaning over the kitchen bench she was standing behind and squeezing Loli's hand in comfort. The doorbell rung just as she pulled back, and her eyes widened. Loli laughed, Joan was expecting Clarity, but she was still surprised.

"Go on, get it, I'll leave as you do," she said, when Joan threw her a concerned glance.

"You don't have to, you could come, if you want," she suggested, as she headed to the door. Loli snorted in response.

"Yeah right. Nope, I'm going home, ordering from Wong's House of Fine Eatings and snuggling up in bed with the entire season seven of Gilmore Girls," she grinned. Joan laughingly rolled her eyes, and pulled the door open.

"Joan! My, you look _marvellous_!" came a high pitched squeal as Clarity Bingley stepped into the room, immaculately dressed in a ridiculously priced silver evening dress.

"Thanks Clarity, you look wonderful yourself," Joan praised brightly. Her cheeks turned red again when Cale Bingley stepped into the threshold, dressed nicely in a dinner suit, his strawberry blonde hair flopping about his face. He pressed his lips to Joan's cheek, his hand momentarily placed on her waist, before he stepped back.

"Oh, hey Loli!" Cale greeted cheerfully, when he spotted Loli sitting in the kitchen, drinking milk.

"Hey Cale," Loli replied with a smile.

"I didn't know you were coming too! Sorry we're early, are you ready?" he asked curiously, his green eyes twinkling. Loli liked Cale. He was like the big brother she had always wanted, but never had.

"Oh, I'm not –" Loli began, before she was interrupted with Clarity's overly-sweet drawl.

"Why of _course_ you're coming Lottie!" she crooned instantly. "It was so _naughty_ of you to run away the other night without giving me your contact details, or else I would have invited you myself!" she cried, her sickly grin spreading. "Hmm, dressed for work?" she said, in fake pity.

"Well, if you give her a minute, I'm sure Loli can grab something from my room," Joan offered. Clarity's smirk faltered.

"Great idea!" praised Cale.

"That's okay, I really don't want to –" Loli began.

"Nonsense, Loli," he interrupted. "Go on then, get changed, we'll wait for you," he urged her. Loli sighed in defeat, and allowed herself to be dragged by Joan to her room.

"I hate you," she said, without force, just in misery at the prospect of spending the evening with _Clarity. _She didn't understand that woman. Her feelings towards Loli were clear – she _obviously_ didn't like her, but her actions were so confusing.

"I know you do," Joan replied, pulling open the doors to her wardrobe. Loli fell back on Joan's floral bedspread, and stared miserably at the roof.

"Come on, put it on," Joan ordered, tossing a dress at Loli. She sat up, and took a look at it.

"Aw… Joan!" she groaned. "It won't fit me. You're way taller than I am," she objected.

"Yes, it will. Come on Loli, we can't keep them waiting," she said nervously. Loli sighed, and took off her skirt and blouse, and slid into the dress.

Fitzwhitlam, or Whit, as he was called by his close friends, and Fitz by most, sat in the corner of the stretch Mercedes with boredom. Clarity and Cale had gone in to fetch Joan or Jane or Janet or whoever, Cale's newest love, before they would head over to the restaurant.

He didn't know how he had allowed himself to be roped into it. He didn't really _like_ going out that much, mostly it annoyed him. But Clarity was an expert at making people do exactly what they didn't want to do, and before he knew it, he was going to dinner in apparently one of London's best restaurants, wishing that he could be at home with his sister and nephew.

He glanced at his watch in irritation. They had been up there for ten minutes.

"Come _on_," he groaned in frustration. He was one step away from getting out of the car and walking home when the door was opened, and Clarity slid back into the car.

"Did you miss me, Fitz?" she asked in a low, supposedly sultry voice. Darcy almost shuddered in disgust. She was always clinging onto him, but he just wasn't interested.

"You were only gone a few minutes," he reminded her, even though the ten minutes he had spent in the car by himself had felt like an eternity. He should have been grateful that it was without her presence, he supposed. To avoid anymore questioning, he slid away from her slightly, and closer to Cale, who had just gotten into the car, practically carrying his blonde with him.

He was about to yell at the driver to get moving when he saw it, a flash of long, silky red hair that fell down in soft waves, before curling at the ends.

He had to admit, she looked fantastic. She wore a strapless electric blue cocktail dress with an empire waist, the hem folded over to create the sort of bubble look that she pulled off so well, her long legs seeming to never end in the sexy black heels she wore.

He couldn't believe it. He found _her_, his newest employee, the loudmouthed, twenty-one year old brat that had gone out of her way to humiliate him at the airport in Tokyo _attractive_? It was inconceivable. Impossible.

But the way those blue eyes sparkled…

Loli could see the distain written clearly across his face. The moment she stepped into the backseat of the car, he looked at her with an expression of 'what the _hell_ are _you_ doing here?'. She gave a challenging glance, before she sat down beside Joan, and opposite Clarity.

She couldn't help but notice that Darcy didn't talk much. He simply sat, staring out the window as London sped past, a bored, haughty expression on his face. Clarity droned on for the whole trip, mostly to Darcy, but she didn't listen. She amused herself by mentally going through her wardrobe, and picking out some sensible outfits to wear to work, and some _not_ so sensible ones too.

It didn't take them long to arrive at the restaurant, but by then Loli was already bored out of her mind, and couldn't stand the sound of Clarity's voice. They were seated quickly; apparently the proprietor knew the Bingley's and Mr Darcy well, so guaranteed them the best table.

"Fancy much?" Loli muttered to Joan in a low voice as one of the waiters led them to their table. The restaurant was in the top floor of a skyscraper, overlooking the Thames and the sparkling London night. They had a nice table right by the window, with the best view of the city. Loli walked slowly to the table, gazing around at all of the art that adorned the walls. She wasn't used to going to high-society restaurants, filled with people drinking fantastically expensive wine, and eating a single meal that cost more than Loli's weekly grocery bill.

Clarity was already seated, and Cale helping Joan into her chair as she approached the table. She picked an empty seat that would allow her a good view of the city, her eyes barely able to leave the large window. She looked up in confusion as Darcy pulled her chair out.

"Nuh-uh, _my_ spot," she said sternly. He rolled his eyes.

"You're supposed to sit down," he informed her.

"I was about to," she insisted with a frown.

"No, you're supposed to sit down when a man pulls out the chair for you," he explained in slight frustration. Loli glanced from him to the chair in puzzlement. She hesitatingly sat down.

"I can easily sit down myself, _Sir_," she said coolly. "I've been doing it for a while now. Ever since I learnt how to walk. Before then, actually. I've gotten good at it," she added. He rolled his pale eyes and took a seat next to her, and opposite Clarity, meaning he could barely see out the window.

"It's just tradition, etiquette," he explained, his frustration growing. "And you don't need to call me '_sir'_," he added.

"You don't need to do that etiquette thing, I'm your _employee_, remember? Shouldn't I be kissing your ass or something?" she questioned. "Oops, kissing your ass, _sir_?" she corrected herself with a flicker of the lips. Darcy frowned angrily, and glanced around in awkwardness.

"You don't need to call me 'sir'," he said finally. Loli hid back the urge to scoff. "You can call me Darcy," he muttered.

"Fine then, Paul," she snapped. He just frowned.

"My name isn't Paul," he replied.

"Darcy is a girl's name."

"It is _not_," he snapped.

"Fine, but I prefer Paul," she retorted. He shook his head in exasperation.

"Call me _Darcy_," he insisted, in his best 'I'm your boss so do what I say' voice. She frowned, or rather pouted, and held his gaze. She looked away after a moment longer than expected.

"So, Lotus," Clarity began sweetly. "How are you finding London?" she questioned, dripping with false curiosity.

"It's nice," shrugged Loli.

"And your new job?" she continued. Loli could tell perfectly well that she wasn't _really_ interested; she just started talking to her whenever she was talking to…

_Darcy_.

Suddenly, a familiar proverb floated into her mind.

'_Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer_…'

She wondered if Clarity considered her a threat to her chances with Darcy. She doubted it, Darcy hated her, but it certainly made sense…

"Uh – I really like it," she managed to get out, pushing through her mind to retrieve words.

"She was raving about it earlier, actually," Joan commented, with a sly smile. Loli blushed; she didn't want _Darcy_ to know that she loved working for his company.

"Splendid," Clarity gushed. "You have to come over to my place sometime soon, I'll have to contact some of my friends to see if they can send over a few things!" she cried with delight. "Alannah is in Australia at the moment, and I think that Betsey is in New York, but I know that Stella and Vera are in town, so I'll have to give them a ring," she said thoughtfully.

"We'll make it a party," she muttered sarcastically.

"I know, you can come over and meet Collette, she's a _very_ dear friend of mine, and the best modiste in London!" she exclaimed. "Collette can do some sizing for you, and then we'll get a few things for you to try on," she practically squealed, placing her hand on Loli's for a moment. She felt a shiver run up her spine. "Tell me, who is your favourite designer?" she questioned.

"Well… I like things from 'Baby, the Stars Shine Bright'," she answered with a shrug.

"The one with all of the bows?" Clarity questioned in shock.

"Yep! I love bows," grinned Loli.

"Well where do you buy most of your lingerie? I've always felt that if you can trust a designer to make your lingerie, you can trust them to make everything else," she continued.

"I hate to sound anal, but I don't really like to discuss my knickers in public," Loli said pointedly. A heavy silence fell on the table for a moment, before Clarity gave an airy, slightly _loud_ laugh.

"Oh Lotto, you're so _funny_," she giggled. "Isn't she _funny_ Fitz?" she asked, glancing over at Darcy, who looked slightly nervous.

"Hilarious," he muttered quietly, with little to no sincerity. Confident that she had gotten a decent response, Clarity turned to Joan, and began discussing her ideas for the upcoming late Spring shoot.

The food and wine were both excellent. Loli had some sort of chicken dish, and was very impressed. It was almost as good as Wong's House of Fine Eatings. She felt that even though the evening was a bit of a bore, the food at least made up for it.

She glanced over at Joan and Cale. All the signs were there for her to see, Joan liked Cale a _lot_. Having known Joan for so long, Loli could see the little signs that told her as much. Her fingernails tapping ever so slightly on the surface of the table, the fact that she constantly ducked her head to avoid showing Cale her blushes, the way she would glance around to see if his adoring gaze was really fixed on _her_. She laughed politely at his jokes; she sat as to give him her full attention, and agreed with almost everything he said.

She smiled. It was a match made in heaven.

Some people, on the other hand, didn't agree with her conclusions. Darcy was almost disgusted with Joan's behaviour. She was being boring and clingy at the same time, agreeing with whatever he said and laughing falsely whilst tapping her fingers and constantly glancing around the room for another source of entertainment. It was nothing new; he had seen it all before. Women feigned interest in rich men, whilst not really caring about them at all. It made him angry. He wanted that Joan woman gone; he hated seeing people take advantage of his friend.

"So Lopsy, tell me about your family," Clarity suddenly crooned. Loli wanted to frown pointedly into her tiramisu, but kept it to herself.

"Uh, there's my Dad, I suppose," she began with. "He's a travel writer. Well, he was, he's retired now," she explained. "He lives on the other side of London and proof-reads manuscripts for a publishing company now," she continued. Clarity smirked. Loli knew full well that it certainly wasn't a glamorous life to lead. "Err, he married Joan's Mum when I was about eight, or something like that, and umm… well, then there's my mother, she's married to a really nice guy, Edgar," she continued. "They have four kids together, as well," she added.

"It must have been _horrid_ for you, to have your family torn apart like that," Clarity said, feigning sincerity, but Loli only shrugged.

"Not really," she replied with honesty. Another silence fell over the table.

"So tell me, Fitz, how is Gigi?" Clarity questioned, turning to Darcy, who was being silent, as usual.

"Fine," he replied simply.

"And darling little Callum? He's so _sweet_, absolutely _adorable_," she continued, using an almost squealing voice.

"Quite well, thank you," he answered.

"They're spending the rest of Spring at Pemberley, are they not?"

"They'll probably go back to London in August," he informed her.

"That's splendid! I _do_ miss Gigi so, she's such a darling," she crooned. When realising that she was getting little to no reaction from him, she almost angrily stabbed her peach sorbet.

"Is Gigi your sister?" Loli asked Darcy curiously. He glanced over at her momentarily, and then back down again, as if looking at her was something akin to distaste.

"Yes," he answered.

"And who is Callum?" she questioned.

"Her son."

"Do they give out awards for being able to use that many monosyllables?"

He sent her another angry glare. She arched a teasing grin, and sipped her wine. To someone like her, who was always talking non-stop, his quietness just unnerved her. She didn't know many people who could be content to simply _not speak_, for whole evenings. She didn't deny that there were many occasions when she preferred the company of a good book or a decent movie to people, but when she was out, she always had a good time. He was just acting like he was too good for everyone in the room.

"Fitz, will Gigi be coming to Netherfield with us?" Clarity questioned, stopping her conversation with Joan to turn to her favourite.

"I don't think so," Darcy replied.

"Such a shame," said Clarity, in supposed disappointment. "She's _such_ a lovely young lady. But she really is too young to decide, Fitz, perhaps you should make her come to Netherfield with us?" she suggested hopefully. Loli didn't know the game she was playing, and apparently, neither did Darcy.

"She's almost twenty-four," he said bluntly.

"Clarity, Whit's right, Gigi can make her own decisions," Cale pointed out. Loli looked around the table curiously, trying to keep track of the conversation. She was quite interested, too. "I mean, Gigi is only a year and a half younger than Joan, right?" he asked, flushing slightly as he glanced over at Loli's sister, who blushed, and nodded, as if pleased that he remembered. "She's plenty old enough," he rationalised.

"Yes, but I _do_ wish to see her again, Caleb!" whined Clarity. "Maybe you could convince her, Fitz? _Please_?" she begged, fluttering her eyelashes expertly. Loli had to admit, she was fake, but well-trained.

"I'll ask, but I can't guarantee," he replied, looking more uncomfortable by the second. For a split moment, Loli almost felt _sorry_ for the man, but she pushed it from her mind.

He _was_ a prick, after all.

**A/N: You know what I want… no, not your souls. I already have one. I think. I hope. Reviews. Yes, reviews, those things. I love the long interesting ones :D**


	7. Of Flamingos and Shirley Temple

**A/N: Okay, this is an edit. I only replaced one word, so it doesn't really change much.**

**A/N: Okay, it's a short chapter, and I'm **_**so**_** sorry that I didn't update yesterday, but I was working :s Yeah, lame, but the parentals refuse to pay for my hopeful trip to Japan in two years, so I have to contribute to society :( Yeah, this is short, but the next one should be longer :D**

Her feet hurt and her skin stung from the excessive amounts of Hollywood tape used to make sure the dress wouldn't completely fall off her body, but none of that was of any concern to Loli. Well, it was, but not of the upmost concern.

Somehow, _somehow_, in some _weird_, strange, _twisted_ sort of way, she had been pushed into a bit of a tight spot.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," she began to Joan, lying on the other side of her Queen sized bed because she was spending the night, rather than going back to her place. "But did we agree to go on some sort of holiday with Cale and Clarity?" she asked incredulously, when the entire night sunk in.

It hadn't started off well, but by the time dessert was finished and they were settling into coffees, it seemed to be taking a definite nose dive for the worst. Clarity began a complete assault on Loli and Joan, asking some of the most ridiculous questions and probing for trivia. Every time that Loli so much as even glanced at Darcy, she would begin to smother her with fake affection and false compliments. It was almost sickening to watch the way that she fawned over him, batting her eyelashes and pressing her body to his at every convenience.

Darcy had started a conversation with Loli about her first day, asking her how she was handling the Sony commission, asking for her opinions and ideas. That was when Clarity struck.

"I dare say it'll be fun," Joan replied tiredly, rubbing her eyes from sleep. "Apparently they have a mansion in the country. Pools, horses, woods, butlers, everything," she added.

"I'm going to commit suicide," Loli declared.

"It's not that far from Mum's place, either, by car it would only be about an hour, maybe two," she continued. "Apparently it's a huge estate, over a hundred acres."

"Get me a rope."

"I think it'll be nice, and I love horses," Joan raved. "And the library at Netherfield is apparently _huge_, you'd like that, I'm sure,"

"A knife. Anything. Something sharp."

"You know, Darcy might be coming. He's best friends with Cale. And this will be a good opportunity for you to get to know Darcy! Or – Whit, that's what Cale calls him," she suggested brightly, rolling over in bed to face her sister. "And Clarity seems really excited about the whole doll thing, just think, you get gorgeous clothes and jewellery for free, all you have to do is wear them to some parties and let some people take photos of you," she continued.

"A heavy, blunt instrument."

"I mean, it would be so fun! It's like modelling, except better, because you get to keep the clothes!" she exclaimed joyfully. "And who knows, maybe you and Whit will get along…" she trailed off.

"Don't you _dare_ go Emma Woodhouse on _me_, Joan Maria," she snapped, sitting up immediately.

"I just don't see why you're being so cold to him, Loli!" Joan expressed. "And Clarity is just trying to be nice, but you seem so _uninterested_ sometimes," she continued. She wasn't trying to be insulting, or mean, simply concerned for her sister.

"I met Darcy a _week_ ago!" she exclaimed in response. She was about to begin again, before Joan interrupted.

"Not quite a week, you haven't been here that long, Loli," she pointed out, as Loli sighed. She _wanted_ to relate the airport incident, but she simply didn't feel up to it.

"The point is, I only just met Darcy and Clarity and your Prince Charming, but they're already turning my life topsy-turvy," she explained. Joan blushed at her new name for Cale, but her eyes told Loli that she conceded – things had changed because of Clarity and Darcy. "You're so kind and forgiving that you don't see how much of a bitch they really are," she sighed. "Well, apart from Cale, but he's just man's proof that you _can_ overcome your genetics," she added, sensing Joan's objection.

"You should at least give them all a try, Loli," Joan said softly.

"Why should I bother? I don't want to go to boring parties and dress up in pretty clothes that I didn't pay for," she retorted pointedly. "I came to London because I wanted to focus on my career, on my art. Not so I could be a friggen life-sized Bratz doll for a spoilt socialite," she added.

"You know how you said that you thought Whit was such a jerk, because he acted like a spoilt seven-year-old throwing a tantrum?" Joan asked. Loli glanced at her dangerously, but her glare was lost in the dark bedroom. "Well…" she trailed off laughingly.

"Humph!" Loli responded. "_Bully_!" she huffed. Joan only laughed more. "If you weren't such an angel I would give you _such_ a poking," she threatened.

"I'm no angel, Loli, you know that much," Joan giggled. Loli felt her raise her hands to cover her mouth, as if they were teenagers again, sharing the bedroom opposite Fanny's, trying to avoid her shouting at them to go to sleep.

"Lies! You're like… if Dora the Explorer knocked up Shirley Temple," she began, but was interrupted by Joan's loud laughter.

"God, that's _not_ a visual I need," Joan replied, as Loli felt laughter tickling her throat too.

"Yeah, well you're perfect. You give me something to aspire to," she said firmly. "And I can tell you this much, _I'm_ not the only one to see that," she added.

"Oh no Loli, don't start."

"Cale Bingley is in _luuuuuuurve_ with _youuuuuuuu_!" she said in a sing-song voice, over the sound of Joan's embarrassed giggles.

"_Lo_li!"

"He wants you to have his babies. He wants to live in a caravan with you, with pink plastic flamingos shoved into the fake grass out the front, with twenty rugrats running around, screaming and throwing up all over you," she declared.

Joan only sighed, as if it were her dearest desire to have pink plastic flamingos and twenty bratty children.

"I saw him tonight," Loli began, her tone severe, but lilted with laughter. "His _lips_ might have been saying 'please pass the salt, Joan', but his _eyes_ were saying 'join me in the broom cupboard for several minutes of heavy breathing'," she continued, unable to hide the laughter. She and Joan both squeezed their sides as the laughter and giggles exploded over them.

They fell asleep with silly grins pasted over their faces. Loli couldn't help but smile, not just because of the ridiculous jokes they were sharing, but because for a little while, barely an hour, they had been thirteen again, sitting in bunk-beds with their blankets pulled over their faces as they stifled giggles, as to not rouse the sleeping triplets.

For a little while, Darcy and Clarity and dolls and work and ridiculous parties and Netherfield didn't exist, it was just Loli and Joan giggling over a cute boy.

As it should be.

**A/N: IT'S NOT ANGST I SWEAR!!! It's just a bit of nostalgia… Review!**


	8. Greetings from my Planet

**A/N: I am soooo sorry :s If I told you I had been busy, would you believe me? I've been working so much now, trying to save up for that world trip, and even though all I'm doing is selling candles and unnecessary knick-knacks for ridiculous prices it's quite exhausting :( But I got a chance to go into the city, and see China Town the other day, which made me happy :D I went in full-Lolita wear, which might have frightened some people… hehe, lolz. BTW – Buy the new Il Divo CD peoples! It's amazing!!!**

**There are a few terms used in this chapter that need some explaining here before you read :D **

**Shiro Lolita**** – A style of Lolita fashion (if you don't know what Lolita is by now you're disappointing me XD) that takes on any sort of style, like Elegant, Sweet (normally it's Sweet Lolita), Goth, or Classic, and is completely in white. So white dresses and that, white shoes, hair accessories, the lot. It's stunning if you can pull it off well.**

**Kuro Lolita****: Like Shiro, except all black. It's not gothic, and works well, but is hard to do. Normally you see Shiro and Kuro (or 'Black and White') twins together, it's really cute.**

**Himeloli****: The most fancy, over the top form of Lolita. It means 'Princess Lolita', so it's normally complete with crowns and tiaras and that. It normally has the bell skirt (which is a regency style poofed up skirt, normally reaching about the knees), but extended, with a square neckline. **

**Cutsew****: Like an older style blouse with ruffles and lace and bibs and that. They're very pretty, when done well. Normally in white.**

**Jumperskirt****: My personal favourites, they don't have straps, they don't really have the bell skirts, mainly for summer. They're like a frock, and look a bit like a nightgown.**

**Please look these terms up, and seek the 'Lolita Handbook' (just google it) for more Lolita information :D**

For Loli, things didn't take long to settle into a comfortable rhythm. She went to work (by the end of the first week she was wearing jeans, albeit sensible ones, with heels, and was awaiting a point in time where she could get away with her jumperskirts and converse), she worked her butt of and did everything she could to avoid Darcy (she hadn't seen him since the misadventure at the restaurant, or Clarity, but Cale had been spending a great deal of time with Joan, so he was around quite a lot), and she seemed to be getting along with some of her co-workers very well. When she wasn't working, she was either at home, reading, watching TV, listening to music, or out with Joan and Chandra, settling into the London nightlife.

She had been in London almost two weeks before the inevitable phone call came.

"_Loli_, it's been _so_ long since we've had a family dinner!" screeched Fanny into the phone. Loli sighed angrily, and ran a hand through her red curls. She had been sitting in her lounge room for the past twenty minutes, listening to her stepmother drone _on_ and _on_ about how stressful life was for her, slipping in occasional questions ranging 'when are you going to get a _boyfriend_?' to 'would you prefer lavender and white at your wedding, or violet and cream?'.

"And so? You know what it's like when we're all together, Lindsay and Kayte do their best to drive Dad mad, Mya has her scream-o blaring from her ipod whilst she's banging away at that old piano, it always ends in tears," she snapped tiredly.

"Loli! How _dare_ you say such things!" Fanny cried, completely aghast. "As punishment, you have to come to dinner tonight, five o'clock. Wear something nice, because we'll have a guest," she ordered, before slamming the phone down.

Loli sighed. She was either turning into a pushover, or people were getting a little too good at making her do things she had no wish to do.

When her phone rung again, she made an executive decision _not_ to answer it. She was sick of people talking to her, and making her do what she didn't want to do.

"_Hey, you've reached Lolita Moonbeam. I'm not available right now, but your call IS important to me, and you'll soon be directed to someone who cares about your problems. Press 1 repeatedly if you're obsessive compulsive, ask someone to press 2 if you're co-dependent, if you have multiple personalities, press 3, 4, and 5. If you're paranoid, we know who you are and what you want. Don't bother leaving a message, just stay on the line so we can trace your call. If you're schizophrenic, listen to the voices. They know what button to press. If you're manic depressive, don't bother. No one will answer. Here comes the beep!"_

"Your voicemail message is _so_ annoying," came Joan's slightly irritated voice. "Yes, I know you're right there, can I just say that you have the _longest_ answering machine message EVER?"

"I love you too, Joan," Loli grinned as she picked up the phone.

"If you _really_ loved me you would come tonight," she replied teasingly, as Loli groaned, and fell back on her ottoman.

"Actually, I'm going anyway," she sighed miserably, and was met with silence. "Joan?"

"You're _going_? Just like _that_?" Joan questioned incredulously. "I mean… that's good and everything, but you _hate_ family dinners," she continued.

"Yeah, I know," Loli moaned. She stared at the roof, and tried to imagine what she would be doing if she were still in Tokyo.

Probably wondering what she would be doing had she taken the job in London.

"Well, great!" Joan said happily. "Then I'll pick you up so we can go together!" she added, before giving her cheerful goodbye, and hanging up.

Loli rolled off the couch, and groaned into the hardwood floor.

"I hate karma," she muttered miserably.

"No, Loli, the world isn't out to get you," Joan said warily a few hours later, as the drove towards Hertfordshire. Loli had decided against dressing in what her stepmother considered 'nice', and wore a white bell skirt and white cutsew, her hair pulled back into a loose bun, her fringe pushed away by a large white satin bow. She also wore white knee-high stockings and white Mary Jane pumps with bows on the back, just to complete the look. She didn't normally wear Shiro Lolita, or 'white Lolita', as it was better known, because she was always concerned about looking like a marshmallow, but she had bought some perfect accessories like a white mini-crown, a white cameo and her new Mary Janes, so wanted a chance to show them off. If she was perfectly honest, she did it to bother her stepmother. But she didn't have a problem with that.

Fanny had always hated Loli's obsession with Lolita. She had angrily tried to stop her father from buying bell skirts and cutsews and parasols, she had thought it cute for a while, and even dressed her triplets up in Lolita and let them have tea parties and themed picnics, but when Loli started to grow a chest she wanted it to be shown off, not hidden away under blouses and boleros and capelets. And now, as Loli continued to dress in Lolita, even in adulthood, she had even more reason to despise her 'horrid' stepchild.

"I'm telling you, Joan, it _really_ is," Loli complained, sipping a can of coke she had decided to bring with her.

"So I assume you didn't press the button then?" Joan said teasingly.

"Oh… right, on the answering machine!" Loli cried delightedly, after a moment's hesitation. She chuckled. "That's probably my favourite one, but I change it once a week anyway," she laughed.

"I know," Joan replied laughingly. "Mum called me once, almost having a fit, because your answering machine was telling her that it was about to commit suicide," she chuckled, glancing over at her sister before returning her eyes to the road.

"You look… tired," Loli said softly, regarding her sister with curiosity, a soft frown appearing on her mouth. Her skin still glowed with its usual vitality, her eyes still sparkled like the morning sky, and her rose-like lips were still curved into a delicate smile, but there were dark purple bags beneath her eyes, and her hair, pulled back loosely with a few strands falling from her bun only emphasised the look.

"Clarity has been working me harder," Joan sighed tiredly, rubbing her eyes to push the weariness from them. "I can't even _remember_ the last time I took a photo of a tree, or a sunset, I've just been working _constantly_," she added.

"Hun, _take a break_!" Loli suggested forcefully, with a bit of a laugh. "You and Cale. Run off to your caravan park and play crocket with those plastic flamingos," she advised. Joan laughed in response, and shook her head slightly.

"I will take a break," Joan promised, as she turned into Hertfordshire Road. "At Netherfield, with you and Cale," she added cheekily. Loli groaned, and rolled her head back.

"Enough with that! I don't want to go!" she cried with annoyance. But the expression Joan pulled to convince her was a killer. Her big doe eyes welling up like a cartoon character. Loli winced. That look was always her weakness. "_Fine_! I'll do it," she said miserably, sliding down in the seat. Joan grinned broadly.

"I love you," she said affectionately, still smiling like a madwoman. Loli only muttered a Japanese obscenity under her breath as a response.

Loli sighed miserably as she got out of Joan's mini cooper, staring up at the house with trepidation.

"Come on then," Joan urged, pulling Loli by her wrist up the gravel drive, past the rose garden, the heavy scents almost making Loli drowsy as it mixed with the lavender on the other side of the garden. She had to admit, Fanny _did_ do a good job at keeping house. She was the perfect trophy wife; it was a shame that she didn't marry the perfect trophy husband.

"Lo," greeted Mya morosely as she pulled open the door, moments after Joan had pressed down on the doorbell. She looked just as pale and morose as usual, her hair now white. Not bleached, but _white_. Her blank blue eyes were the only scrap of colour in her entire appearance, with her black skinny legs and black tank top. Her ipod sat in her pocket, white headphones winding their way up to her ears, on which black dice studs glittered. "Nice look, Lolita," she commented, glancing over Loli. She always addressed her elder sister as 'Lolita', never 'Loli', as most people did. It wasn't annoying, just a little bit different.

"You know, you should really get into some Goth Lolita. Or at least Kuro," Loli replied, stepping through the threshold. Mya quirked an eyebrow, and smirked.

"Take me to Japan and I'll go friggen Himeloli," she retorted. Loli laughed as she walked through the hallway, lined with professional photographs of Fanny and her children, all heavily made up, looking almost the opposite to their regular appearances.

"I never get these discussions," Joan sighed, shaking her head at the two. Mya had been the only one, other than her parents, to have at least _some_ interest and understanding in Japanese culture. Although Loli got along best with Joan, she was able to tolerate Mya, whereas most just dismissed her. Yes, she had a desperate desire for originality, creativeness and individuality, and yes, she chose entirely the wrong ways of _getting_ those things, but she was a pleasant enough girl, funny and sarcastic when she wanted to be, but Loli had the idea that she was just terribly shy, and very uncomfortable in her own skin.

"Don't mind her, she doesn't even know what Hamtaro is," Loli said to Mya, throwing a playful glance back at Joan, who only laughed and rolled her eyes. "Your new look is good, by the way," she added to Mya, as they wound their way into the living room.

"I like it enough," shrugged Mya.

"Can I make one little alteration, though?" Loli asked hopefully. Mya sighed.

"Go crazy, you lady of ribbons and lace," she retorted. Loli dug through her handbag, it was of a very cute design, and covered completely in white lace. She pulled out a stick of bright red lipstick. "Oh dear," Mya muttered, before Loli stepped forwards, and applied a layer to her little sister's lips.

"There!" Loli said, stepping back triumphantly.

"Do I look like a two pound whore?" Mya asked, almost wincing at the effect of the lipstick.

"Honey, don't talk yourself down," Loli said, patting her arm. "You're at _least_ five pounds a whirl," she complimented. Joan stifled laughter, and Mya rolled her eyes.

"Crazy bitch," she commented, before turning around to glance in one of her mother's many chintz framed mirrors. "Woah," she said in surprise, before releasing a low whistle. "Impressive. Pulls the whole look off," she muttered.

"I should probably get people to pay me money for this," Loli added. Mya threw her a grin, before she pulled out her ipod, and turned the volume up. "MAAAAM! GIRLS ARE HERE!" she cried loudly, as Loli and Joan winced. She gave an apologetic look, before she left the room quickly.

"_GIRLS!_" screeched Fanny, as if it had been months (not two weeks) since she had seen them. She entered the room with wide open arms, clutching Joan into a tight hug. She wore a black cocktail dress that showed off far too much of her cleavage, which had had almost as much work as those of Clarity Bingley. Her bottle blonde curls bobbed up and down as she pressed her red lips to each side of Joan's face, commenting on how beautiful she was looking, and how much of a wonderful daughter she was.

Loli almost grinned at Fanny's reaction when she saw her. She looked her up and down, and frowned in distaste.

"I told you to wear something _nice_," she practically spat, glaring at the girl.

"Yes, but I was all out of potato sacks," Loli said sarcastically. "Dad here?" she asked, glancing around.

"Of course he is. Probably in his study, though, but he should come out for before dinner drinks, our guest isn't here yet," she answered, waving Loli away with a flick of her wrist, before she clutched onto Joan, and led her into the kitchen with haste.

The study was down the hall, far away from any places of interest for Kayte, Lindsay or Fanny, Mya he didn't mind as much, because she was normally quite quiet, but Loli's father was a bit of a recluse. It was only Loli's company that he could tolerate, which was why he was often away from home, either at his 'office' (it was really a whole apartment) in London, or off with his hippie friends somewhere to save a particular species of tree or noxious toad.

Loli pushed the door open that led to her father's study, and immediately stepped back, waiting for the cloud of smoke to billow out before she entered. She was lucky, however, because there was no smoke. 'He's probably on the LSD', she thought, entering the room.

"Bugger off, all of you," came the bored monotone of Shamus Starchild from a couch somewhere, buried within the confines of his private library.

"You cranky old bastard," Loli replied teasingly, winding her way through piles of books, old coffee mugs, and a hookah or two.

"Moon!" Shamus cried happily, a white head whipping up suddenly from a leather couch in the Victorian Playwright section.

"Evening Father," Loli greeted, wrapping arms around his neck from behind. "I missed that annoying American twang of yours, been off tramping around the world again?" she asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his forehead.

"My, you've grown rather _judgemental_ in my absence," laughed Shamus. "And I'm not bloody American – I'm still Irish, you twat," he added pointedly, the smile in his voice. He raised his hands backwards, and wrapped his arms around his daughter's waist, and pulled her over his shoulder, so she sat on his lap. She giggled playfully; it had been years since he did that. Or even had the strength to do that. He was nearing his sixties, and whilst he didn't really look a day over forty, she knew that he should be more responsible about his health.

Loli smiled at her father. He still looked the same, white hair with a bit of ginger flecked through, a reminder of his original hair colour, green eyes twinkling, a few more wrinkles to his face and he hadn't shaved in a little while, but he was still her father.

"You're right. You still sound like a Leprechaun," she laughed. Her father's strong Irish brogue had always been a source of amusement for them, as well as traditional jokes about potatoes and dancing.

"Is your wicked stepmother still screeching in there?" Shamus questioned his daughter, with a narrowed glare at the door.

"She was when I left," she replied, with a shrug, as he sighed.

"Ah well, she'll marry em all off eventually, I suppose I can only wait for the day," he commented in monotone, before glancing back at her. "So what about you then? Not gotten yourself knocked up yet?" he asked, taking in her interesting appearance.

"Nope," Loli answered proudly.

"No tattoos? Piercings? Communicable diseases?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow in a questioning manner.

"We didn't _all_ have a youth as bohemian as yours, Dad," Loli retorted, with a teasing grin. He laughed in response.

"Shame about that, kiddo," he replied, with twinkling eyes. "And how's this new job of yours going?" he asked curiously.

"It's really good, the boss is a bit of a jerk, but the good thing is he's antisocial and a complete snob, so I don't see him often," she informed him cheerfully, as he met her response with a chuckle. "The work is pretty good, lot's of artistic freedom, I'm not much of the leadership kind, but I prefer to pull my own weight in the projects we're doing," she added.

"Well it's good to hear you aren't squandering your time behind the water cooler with your supervisor," he commented, as Loli rolled her eyes.

"As if. Those water coolers offer you _no_ privacy," she retorted with a cheeky grin. Shamus shook his head and chuckled some more.

"Well, you look like some sort of cream dessert, might I say," he complimented, pulling her to sit up in his lap, like she did when she was a child. Sometimes he liked to just act the way they were, when she was no more than seven or eight years old, and she was only too happy to act that way as well. The whole purpose of Lolita was to be a child for all eternity, after all.

"Thanks, I made it out of icing sugar," she replied with a hint of sarcasm. Shamus laughed, shook his head slightly, before Loli picked up a copy of Oscar Wilde's '_The Importance of Being Earnest_', and he turned back to his own book.

They were summoned quite quickly about half an hour later by Fanny, who was screeching that the guest had arrived, and they needed to be in the front room so they would greet him.

"Who's the poor guy?" Loli whispered to her father as they passed through the hall, following the eccentric Fanny to the living room.

"Actually, I think _we're_ all getting the worse end of this arrangement," he replied. "From what I've heard, he's an idiot. But an amusing one," he informed her, the twinkle returning to his eyes. "Probably for all the wrong reasons, however," he added cheekily. Loli laughed and rolled her eyes, she knew perfectly well that this mysterious guest by the name of 'Colin Williams' was going to be teased mercilessly throughout the evening by her father. And if he really was as stupid as Shamus said, and judging by the fact that he had befriended Fanny Bettenne and had agreed to come to dinner he most certainly _was_, he probably wouldn't even know that he was _being_ teased.

"Don't make him cry, please," she requested. "This outfit has no pockets, so I didn't bring any hankies," she added, before her father gave a little snort of laughter.

"Alright, for you, I won't make the idiot cry," he promised affectionetly.

"Shutup, the both of you," snapped Fanny, glaring at her husband and stepchild. "Sit down and look natural, and _you_, start pouring drinks," she ordered, as Loli bitterly took a place between Mya and Kayte, who was wearing a little black and silver dress that would be appropriate for a strip club, but not dinner. Lindsay too was wearing something ridiculously metallic and short, hers in a hideous print that was a cross between a both zebra and leopard print.

"You look weird," the two said in union. Loli wasn't startled, as she normally would have, because she had spent enough time around the twins to speak their language. They barely had one brain between them, so they shared the same thought waves.

"You look hideous," Loli replied bluntly.

"Which one?" Kayte asked curiously.

"Both of you," she answered.

"Bitch."

"Lindsay! Don't use such language!" hissed Fanny, just as the doorbell rung. She squeaked and rushed to the door.

"I'm getting the idea that by the end of the night, one of your girls are going to end up marrying this fellow," Shamus commented suddenly.

"Bad idea," Loli muttered quietly when the man walked through the doorway.

He was decidedly unattractive. He didn't look like he stood very tall, a little bit taller than Loli, perhaps, with short, light brown hair brushed forwards, and small, beady little eyes. He wore black suit pants that were sitting just a little too high on his hips, and an off-pink Oxford shirt, with one of the most disgusting, putrid ties Loli had ever seen. He looked to be of an age ranging from twenty-three to twenty-five. He allowed Fanny to remove his jacket, which she hung up immediately, leading him further into the room.

"Colin, I'd like you to meet my children, and my husband," Fanny began excitedly. Colin's beady little eyes centred in on Joan, the eldest and most attractive of all of the girls, flittering briefly over the triplets, who were all fifteen, so untouchable. He evaluated Loli for a moment, taking in her rather unusual style of dress, before he went back to Joan with a sick little grin. Joan glanced around nervously.

"It's a pleasure, most _certainly_ a pleasure to meet you all," he said, his words one moment very quick, the next rather slow, his monotone hinted with nervousness that Loli had a suspicion was constant.

"Colin, this is my husband, Shamus," Fanny began. Shamus miserably stood, and shook Colin's hand.

"This is truly the happiest day of my life," Shamus said, before sitting back in his armchair, and pulling out a small paperback novel from his pocket.

"_Shamus_! I thought I told you to get the drinks!" hissed Fanny. Shamus looked up, and stared at his wife in an expression clearly saying 'you are _made_ of stupid'.

"I got mine," he replied simply, shrugging, and sipping his scotch. Fanny gave an exasperated sigh.

"I'm sorry about my husband, he has a… _syndrome_," she lied.

"It's called rudeness," Shamus threw in conversationally, his eyes not moving from his book. "And it's contagious," he added, taking another sip from his drink. Colin looked somewhat alarmed, and stepped backwards from Shamus rather obviously; wiping the hand that Shamus had shook on his pants. Loli rolled her eyes and poorly disguised a smirk.

"He also has a strange sense of humour," Fanny tried to desperately explain, fluttering her fake eyelashes as the intruder.

"That's quite alright, Mrs Bettenne," Colin said in a slightly nasally voice. "He probably can't help it," he added, as Shamus snorted laughter. After a glare from his wife, he continued to sip his drink in silence. "Might I be introduced to your _lovely_ daughters?" he questioned, throwing a lecherous glance over at Joan, who shifted nervously.

"Of course! This is my eldest, Joan, she's a photographer, she works for _Clarity_ magazine," Fanny began, as Joan stood, and shook Colin's hand politely, before taking a seat again.

"I've never seen such beauty, Mrs Bettenne!" exclaimed Colin eagerly, his beady eyes taking in Joan's figure. Fanny smirked proudly, before turning to her triplets.

"And this is Lindsay, Kayte, and Mya," she recited, pointing to each girl respectively. Lindsay giggled playfully, and Kayte copied the moment she saw Colin's Rolex watch. Mya rolled her eyes, and put her headphones in her ears.

"Such pretty young girls, Mrs Bettenne," Colin commented.

"He's given us the Pedo-Bear seal of approval," Loli whispered quietly to Mya, who snorted in laughter. Fanny glared at her angrily.

"And this is my stepdaughter, Lolita," Fanny said finally, looking decidedly depressed as Colin inspected her appearance.

"Umm… very… nice, Mrs Bettenne," he said unsteadily, before clearing his throat loudly, and speaking as if Loli had just left the room. "I must say, she has a very peculiar appearance. My employer, _Lady_ Ekaterina du Bourg, of Rosings Park - daughter of a Duke, you know, _such_ a wonderful woman, I manage her estate, and her stocks and investments, I'm an accountant, you see," he began to prattle. "She – oh, wait, what was I saying?" he questioned suddenly, a completely blank expression overcoming his features, as he scratched his head. He glanced around the room nervously, before he saw Loli. "Good heavens, why are you wearing that? My employer, Lady Ekaterina du Bourg of Rosings Park would never allow such a thing," he said suddenly. Loli blinked silently, not sure what she should say to respond. "Although, you _are_ in-keeping with the good, _traditional_ standards of dress that my employer promotes," he added, inspecting her again. "I'm sure she would be _most_ intrigued by you, Miss Lolita," he added.

Loli could hardly breathe. She didn't _want_ to laugh, and by damn, she _wouldn't_, but he was making it so easy for her. It was like he was _begging_ for her to make him look like a fool. Although, she probably couldn't make him look any stupider than he had just revealed himself to be.

"Yes." Loli replied simply. "I'm sure," she muttered, glancing at her father. He was silently banging his head on the table. Colin turned immediately back to Fanny, who decided to give him a quick tour of the house.

"_Mustn't – make – the – idiot – cry_!" Shamus said firmly to himself, as if repeating a mantra.

"_Quiet_, Shamus!" squealed Fanny from the hallway. Loli sunk into the couch, and sighed.

It was going to be a long, and interesting night.

**A/N: Sorry it wasn't longer. I'll update tomorrow with more Colin Williams :D**


	9. The trouble coffee causes

**A/N: Ahhhhh…. I know I always say I'm going to update, and never do, and I'm sorry :S I'm not lazy, I've just been having trouble with the direction of this story, trying to get it worked out. So I'm working on it, and I know that this isn't that long, this chapter, because it isn't even four thousand words, but it's 12:41 in the morning and I'm kind of sleepy… School starts in two weeks, ew. So it's really important that you keep on telling me how I'm going with this, and what you think should happen next, any ideas are appreciated, because I think this may be a long haul… :D**

"And _then_, do you know what her Ladyship said?"

"No, Colin, I don't know what her Ladyship said, would you _please_ inform me? I'm on the edge of my seat."

Shamus' dry tones were quite evident to all but Colin, of whom his particular brand of humour was lost on.

"She said, _'My, Mister Williams! You had best find a wife!_'!" he exclaimed, with a sense of gleeful pride, waving his fork airily, a boiled baby potato flying off the end, soaring through space before it hit the wall with a squish, but Colin went on. "Imagine _that_, will you!" he cried, his grin spreading, as he turned to glance at Joan. "Her Ladyship is so _considerate_ towards my… _needs_," he added nasally.

Joan winced visibly.

"And tell me, Colin, dear, what kind of industry is Lady Ekaterina involved in?" Fanny asked, her lashes clumping with excess up and down motion.

"Mrs Bettenne, she's a _Lady_! Ladies don't _work_," exclaimed Colin, quite alarmed. "Her husband was an investor in many different corporations, after his demise, Lady Ekaterina took over the helm for a little while," he explained. "But then she hired me to manage her investments," he added. "She is a _very_ wealthy woman, she has several estates all over the world," he informed Fanny, with a smug grin. "I travel with her. Most of the year we spend in London, but of late, Lady Ekaterina has taken to Paris, she feels the climate and culture is very important for her daughter, Anastasia," he continued.

"She called her child _Anastasia_…" muttered Loli under her breath, in slight distaste, shaking her head slowly. Joan sent her a disapproving look. "Right, forgot, I'm the one named after a style of Japanese clothing," she defended, raising her arms and rolling her eyes teasingly.

Colin stared.

She stared back.

He almost whimpered, and looked away, leaving Loli with a smug expression.

"So does Lady Ekaterina have any other children?" Fanny asked hopefully. Loli almost snorted. She was almost certainly fishing for a rich young heir to marry off to one of her daughters.

"No, just Anastasia," Colin replied, sipping his wine greedily, and hiccupping, blinding him to Fanny's disappointed sigh. "But Lady Anastasia is _such_ a wonderful young girl, she has all the graces and elegance of a Princess, as I so often remind my Ladyship," he drawled, before giving another hiccup.

"You're quite good at this complimenting thing, Colin," Shamus said suddenly. "Tell me, do you have to think about these, or do they just pop into your head?" he asked curiously, leaning forwards, as if in interest. But his eyes let everyone (but Colin) know that he was, in fact, _very_ amused.

"On no, I _never_ have to think about these things!" Colin replied gleefully, a grin spreading over his face, as if they were plastic lips crudely stuck on a Mr Potato Head.

"Well, that's certainly the impression you give," Loli said cheerfully. Colin only beamed even more.

"For a girl with such a strange sense of fashion, Mr and Mrs Bettenne, your daughter is _very_ conscientious," Colin informed Fanny and Shamus, taking another mouthful of wine.

"Actually, 'Bettenne' is Fanny's maiden name, all of the girls, except Moon, of course, took hers," Shamus informed Colin casually. "_My_ surname is Starchild," he added teasingly, as Fanny buried her head in her hands.

"_Really_?" exclaimed Colin, with extreme interest, apparently heightened by the excessive amounts of alcohol he had consumed.

"Oh yes, _really_," Shamus replied with a sarcastic smirk. "I think I like you, Colin Williams," he declared.

"And _I_ think I like your _Joan_, Mr Starbeam!" Colin cried.

"I'm sure Joan's boyfriend is very happy about that," Loli threw in casually, inspecting her nails. She ignored the sudden looks from everyone else at the table.

"Did I say Joan?" Colin said, breaking the awkward silence hanging over the air with a nervous laugh. He glanced at Joan, then Lindsay, then Kayte, then Mya, and finally Loli. "I meant _Loli_, that's who I meant," he corrected himself.

Loli felt the blood disappear from her face, and her eyes widen. She looked up in fear.

"Nah, the white skin is just too much," Mya declared, inspecting Loli thoughtfully. "I'm going to go have a shower," she muttered, when Fanny sent her one of her best death-glares. "Have fun, Loli," she added, standing up, and leaving the table.

"So…" Shamus said finally, after clearing his throat. "What are your intentions there, Colin?"

"I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life," Loli moaned, spread out on the back seat of Joan's tiny cooper as they headed home, after a long and _very_ painful night.

"You know, I think Dad's mantra was a bit more productive," Joan said with extreme optimism. "And who knows? Colin seemed… _nice_, maybe you'll like him," she said hopefully. Loli gave a loud groan, and turned over; burying her head in fluffy Betty Boop car seat covers that smelt like Tresco's shopping bags. "It's just _one_ date," Joan tried to convince her tenderly, glancing in the rear view mirror for a second to check that she hadn't strangled herself in the seat belts.

"Says the girl whose dating the ginger-ninja equivalent of McDreamy," Loli threw in, causing her sister to blush brightly.

"We aren't _dating_, we've just seen each other a few times," Joan retorted, the red in her face rising until she almost looked like a tomato. Loli couldn't help but laugh.

"How come _you_ got to miss out on creepy-Colin _and_ the usually inevitable questioning on your sex-life whenever you even _smile_ at a guy?" she asked, with playful envy. "Seriously, I hate you right now," she added, digging her head back into the seat.

"I don't _have_ a sex-life, Loli, you're exaggerating," Joan chastised.

"And neither did I, which is why I'm now stuck with _Colin_," moaned Loli, her response muffled and almost inaudible.

"You know, people's butts have been sitting on those seats," Joan pointed out to her.

"Bleugh!" cried Loli, sitting up immediately. "Oh… _dammit_!"

Loli didn't really like mornings. Mornings didn't really like her, either.

"I… _neeeeeed_… _coffeeeeeeeeeeeee…_" she moaned, buried beneath annoyingly curly red locks, that buried her face and desk, the desk that she was hitting her head on repeatedly.

"You know, I got this for myself, but I think you need it more than I do," came a voice from behind. She straightened up. She didn't really have a door for her office; it was more like a glorified cubicle, so people were pretty much free to walk in and out of. But she didn't really like intruders.

"You know you want to give me the coffee," she said, spinning her chair around, with a small grin on her face.

The man leaning against her would-be doorframe was one step away from making her jaw drop. He was _hot_. Standing tall, fit and lean, with broad shoulders and arms that looked like they could probably hold up the entire building, his slightly too-tight shirt showing off some definite gym workouts. He was very attractive, with dark hair pulled into a very short ponytail and deep, penetrating almost-black eyes, tanned skin the colour of a milky coffee with a hazelnut shot, like the temping one he held in his hand. He was probably a cliché. With his leather jacket and scruffy jeans, a bit of stubble and a cool, playful smile, he was _gorgeous_.

"Well, I don't know…" the main trailed off teasingly, looking at the foam cup in his hand. "I haven't tried it yet, but this coffee smells _damn_ good," he informed her. "What's it worth?" he asked, his dark eyes flashing with challenge as he looked Loli up and down, taking in her dark blue skin-tight bootleg jeans, big brown leather boots, champagne coloured blouse and waist-high belt to match the shoes, and responding smirk.

"How about the warm and fuzzy feeling you get when you know you've prevented the crazy woman from blowing up the entire building because she can't get Photoshop to open," she answered, crossing her legs and placing her folding hands on her knee. Her look was jut as challenging as his. He chuckled.

"So… you could somehow destroy this entire building, just because you can't get a program to open?" he clarified playfully. Loli sighed.

"You underestimate my screwing up powers," she informed him, with a slight shrug. "The boss already hates me, so even if I _didn't_ blow up this building, I'd still be held responsible, and that coffee is crying my name, it _knows_ me now, so you don't want to be caught with incriminating evidence when the police march in here to inspect the crumbling remains of Darcy Designs," she informed him, her blue eyes twinkling. He was attractive, flirty, and showing her attention that she hadn't received in a while from a sane man. She was perfectly happy to flirt back.

"Well, I guess I had better give you the coffee then," he said finally, giving in with a pretend-sigh, passing the cup over to her.

"You fought an impressive fight," she praised, before taking a sip, and groaning in relief, sinking into her chair. "You've just saved my life," she informed him. The man laughed.

"I'm pleased to hear it," he replied, sitting atop the edge of her desk. "I'm Jamie Wickham, by the way," he added, extending a broad hand towards her. Loli shook it firmly, taking in his appearance behind long dark eyelashes, and spinning her chair to face him directly. She grinned.

"Lolita Gardiner," she replied, taking her hand back, and having another sip of coffee. "Call me Loli," she added, with another little smile. Jamie grinned.

"Lolita… I like it," he smiled. "So, Loli, do you want to show me what's wrong with your computer?" he asked playfully, glancing over at the monitor.

"Err… Photoshop won't start," she replied, shrugging.

"You mind?" he asked, gesturing towards the keyboard and mouse.

"Go ahead, and have fun, it's murder," she responded, pushing her chair back to allow him access.

"Well, we should have this up and running in a –"

"Lolita, I'd like you to edit some preliminary designs for the… what the hell is _he_ doing in here?"

Loli turned to the would-be doorway of her office suddenly, her eyes widening in shock. As far as she was aware, Darcy hardly ever even came into the office, he was always busy with another part of Darcy Industries, and even when he _was_ in, he _never_ came into the office of a lowly Junior Assistant Director.

But there he stood in his Georgio Armani, with his gorgeous face and an expression half-way between horrified and angered. But he wasn't staring at her, rather over her shoulder, at Jamie, who had turned to face the intruder with a cool smirk.

"Hey _Whit_, how's it hanging?" Jamie asked pleasantly, leaning against Loli's desk. Behind him, on the monitor, Photoshop CS3 was starting.

"You don't _get_ to call me that name, _James,_" he practically spat. Loli looked between the two with disbelief.

"Umm… hey, I know I'm just a lowly employee, barely above the classification of an intern, and really have no business in asking, but what the _hell_ is going on here?" she asked suddenly. Darcy seemed to snap out of his trance, and moved his heavy gaze over to her. The fire and ice and rage died down for a minute, but his fist was still clenched, and his jaw tight.

"I need you to edit one of those drafts that the Director finalised last week for Sony. They want a preview prepared by the end of the day," he informed her tonelessly.

"Oh, umm, alright," she muttered. "But… shouldn't that be the Director's job? I mean, I'm flattered and everything, but this –" she tried to begin.

"Just do it, I'll have my secretary send you your next assignment when she gets off her lunchbreak," he snapped, turning his eyes back to Jamie. "I know you're barely above the classification of an intern, but hopefully you can manage that," he added pointedly, as Loli's small expression of confusion and concern turned into a scowl.

"I'm on it, _sir_," she retorted pointedly.

"I just brought your _lovely_ little employee a cup of coffee, and was helping her with her computer, Whit," Jamie drawled, folding his arms against his chest. "I was here to ask you a few things, actually, do you mind?" he questioned lightly.

"_Yes_, so get out of my building," growled Darcy. "_Now_!" he shouted angrily, his hostility shining through. Jamie didn't flinch, only stood up properly.

"Well then Lolita, I guess I'll be seeing you," he said, shaking her hand again.

"Thanks for the coffee, and for the computer," she replied, desperately hoping that her pale skin wasn't betraying her and revealing a blush to her cheeks.

"I'm glad I could be of service," he responded, with a quiet smile. "Tell me, how old are you?" he asked randomly. Loli laughed, and was not offended.

"Twenty-one," she answered. Jamie grinned, and then glanced up at Darcy.

"Perfect," he said, not looking at her. Darcy was practically blowing steam from his ears.

"Get out," he hissed. For a moment, fear flickered over Jamie's eyes. Then it was gone again.

"I'm leaving," he assured him, raising his hands in surrender. He left the room with a wink to Loli, and a small wave to Darcy, who blatantly ignored him.

Loli stared after the place where Jamie had last been. She wanted to scream at Darcy, to tell him what a jerk he was being, but she knew she would be fired instantly if she did.

"He just got me coffee," she informed Darcy pointedly, who was pacing, actually _pacing_ in the entrance to her office.

"You will not _talk_ to that man, you will not _see_ him, you will not engage in _any_ contact, if you _do_ see him in the building, you will alert security," Darcy began heatedly. "If you see him on the street, you _will_ ignore him. And on no accounts, will you give him _any_ personal details," he ordered angrily. "If he already has your number, _change_ it. If he has your address, _move_," he practically growled, stopping his pacing. "You are _never_ going to talk to him ever again," he ordered.

Loli felt blood rise up to her cheeks, and her jaw clench.

"You have _no_ right to tell me who I talk to!" she cried, rising to her feet.

"If you value your own personal safety and innocence, you will _never_ see that man _ever_ again!" he commanded heatedly, his face now slowly draining of its colour.

"He just brought me coffee! I've never seen him before, he just turned up here, and got me some coffee, okay?" she clarified angrily, wishing that the heels of her boots were a bit bigger, so she could be more intimidating. He was still a lot taller than her.

"He turned up out of _nowhere_ and gave you coffee?" he cried incredulously. Over his shoulder, Loli could see a few of her co-workers staring curiously with expressions of shock and interest. He shook his head in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.

"_Yes_! So get over it!" she snapped. He looked up, clearly infuriated. She bit her tongue, but remained strong.

"Edit the drafts. Have it done by this afternoon, and my secretary will send you more instructions in an hour," he said firmly, but there was weariness, not so much anger in his voice. "You had better get everything done – because you now have plans for tonight, and overtime is no excuse," he snapped.

"What?" she questioned in frustration, pushing back her curls that she hadn't had time to straighten, or even control that morning.

"Red Rum at eight," he informed her stiffly. "Joan told me to tell you to wear something nice, with a limited amount of bows," he added.

"Is that it?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"I'll see you tonight. A car will be sent round," he said finally, before turning heel, and leaving her office in haste, employees scattering the moment he came into view. Loli stood, standing in her almost-doorway in silent anger, wishing she had a door to slam dramatically. Instead, she swallowed three mouthfuls of coffee in one go; and slammed herself down on the office chair. The man infuriated her.

What kind of nerve did he have, barging in there whilst she was talking to Jamie, demanding her to do drafts and assignments, telling her to change her numbers and move so that this random, nice stranger would never see her again? And then ordering her around like that? It was _disgusting_.

"Well, _someone_ is getting laid tonight."

Loli wheeled around at the sound of Chandra's voice, her friend standing in the pseudo-doorway with an amused smile on her face.

"Will I _ever_ get any _peace_?" Loli groaned, turning back to her desk, and hitting her forehead against it.

"Seriously, he is _all_ over you," he commented, entering the room, inspecting her perfectly manicured nails.

"Don't you have a job, or something?" Loli questioned with tired irritation. "I'm having a suck-arse day," she informed her friend.

"Are you kidding? I saw the whole thing. Two _extremely_ hot guys were just vying for your attention, one of which asked you to dinner tonight," she exclaimed. "I say go for Darcy. He's rolling in it, _and _ridiculously attractive, even more than that _gorgeous_ specimen of a man who left in a huff," she advised, ignoring Loli's groan of growing frustration.

"He didn't ask me out, obviously it's some thing with Joan and Cale, and even so, he _told_ me to go, as well as telling me to do work that someone as lowly and inexperienced as I would _never_ get the chance to do," she responded. "Hang on – why _did_ he give me that job? I mean, I would have thought that the Director of the whole friggen floor, not _me_," she continued. Chandra rolled her eyes, and took her coffee, sitting on the edge of the desk.

"Because you're one of the most talented artists anyone has ever seen, that's why," she retorted.

"He's a prick."

"He's a _sexy_ prick."

"_No_, he's an arrogant, uptight, narcissistic, egotistical, domineering –"

"I've never had a problem with the domineering kind."

"- stubborn, _stuck-up_, demanding –"

"You forgot serious. He's very serious."

"- _serious_ –"

"You forgot sexy."

"- completely _un_-sexy jerk," Loli finished with a huff.

"Come off it, Loli, if your office had a door and blinds he would have nailed you the moment that stud-muffin left the room," Chandra pointed out with bored tones.

"Please don't, I always get nervous when you refer to people around me as innuendo-charged baked goods."

"Loli, he's _crazy_ for you!" cried Chandra. Loli only shook her head firmly.

"He's not. Because I hate him, and he's a tool," she said pointedly. "End of discussion. And I hope you didn't come here hoping that I would skip work so I could go shopping with you, too, because _now_, I have a ton of work to do, and I'll have to be out of here by at least seven so I can drag myself to this pile of crap tonight," she added.

"You've turned bitter, did you know?" Chandra sighed, shaking her head.

"And you've turned senile," she countered.

"See you later then bitch, love you," she replied, sliding off the desk, kissing her friend's cheeks.

"I'll call you, fruitcake," she responded, she too kissing her friend's cheeks.

"Ciao!" called Chandra, leaving the office. Loli wanted to laugh, but then she saw her computer screen, and sighed. Bringing up the files from her hard drive, she got to work.

**A/N: Review! Tell me what you think, what you want to read next, what you think should happen, everything. Please review!!!**


	10. Murder spelt backwards

**A/N: So, yay, I updated again :D This is sort of the aftermath of the meeting with Jamie. We see a bit more of Darcy and Clarity in this one, and I **_**may**_** do the restaurant in the next chapter. Dunno.**

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Pride and Prejudice. That should be evident. I also don't own 'Red Rum', it's the restaurant that my sister works at, so it really exists :S**

She managed to finish the drafts and the extra assignment from Darcy (designing a new logo for Darcy Plastics) by six, and after emailing them off, she left to prepare for dinner at Red Rum.

"Joan, on a scale of one to ten, how 'oh my God this is so ridiculously expensive and incredibly formal' is this restaurant?" she asked her sister, sliding open her phone as she walked through the London street.

"Umm… twelve?" Joan replied, her voice revealing that she was smiling.

"Hmm. So do I go Elegant Lolita then?" she questioned, as Joan sighed.

"No! I told Whit to tell you, _no_ Lolita," she replied sternly.

"So you're on a first-name basis with Mr Posh now? He came into my office, you know," Loli informed her. "Like, actually _into_ my office, and he paced and shouted and everything," she explained. "And he actually gave _me_ two assignments – assignments that people spend a whole _year_ sucking up to do!" she continued.

"He thinks you're a talented artist, he told me," Joan replied. "I'm thinking something in red, or do you think I should wear blue?" she asked, as Loli was met with the ruffling noise of someone going through their wardrobe.

"The strapless silver lacy one," Loli offered distractedly. "What do you _mean_ he said I'm a talented artist?" she questioned, frowning as she pushed past a tall man shouting at a street sign.

"He and I talk, you know," Joan informed her. "We're friends. He's quite nice, I told him about your website, he said that you had some really amazing stuff," she added.

"He's seen my _website_?" Loli practically shouted.

"I don't get what's wrong, you have some beautiful stuff on there; he even ordered a few of your plushies for his nephew," she countered. "I told him to just buy one straight off you, but he preferred to order it over the site. He's really shy, you know," she added. Loli shook her head in frustration as she walked into the warm entrance hall of her apartment building, light streaming over her. She headed to the elevator, which was temperamental at best, but was having a good week, so would save her the long trip up the stairs.

"He's not shy, he's _crazy_," Loli spat. "He came into my office, frightening away this _really_ cute guy who had offered to help me with my computer, shouted at me continuously, and then stormed out," she listed angrily. "He's infuriating! I hate having him as my boss – I can't stand it!" she said, sensing Joan's eye-rolling.

"Just get ready for tonight, _please_?" she begged. "And _try_ not to go Lolita, it would be really helpful," she pleaded.

"I'll try, okay?" Loli sighed. "Alright, I'm gonna go, I'll see you soon," she said finally, before they gave their goodbyes, and hung up. Loli unlocked her front door and pushed it open, stepping into her flat. She leant against the door and slid to the floor. She was tired.

After a luxurious bath, she slid into her favourite silk bathrobe that her mother had designed and given to her for Christmas, passing the hair dryer over her hair and brushing it properly, to style the curls into long silky ones, not a mess of out of control tangles.

She put a CD in the stereo, the volume blaring loudly, as she pulled the French Provincial doors open on her wardrobe, and inspected it's contents thoughtfully, before giving a tiny sigh. She would do her makeup first, and then decide on the dress. She was a procrastinator.

Darcy was actually _nervous_, something he hadn't been for a long time. The incident in Lolita's office – he liked Loli, it was sweet and cute, but Lolita had more elegance to it, more refined beautiful, a much more fitting name, despite the woman's ridiculous temperament and impulsive language skills – had shaken him up considerably, he had felt jealously rise up out of nowhere, rearing it's ugly, thrashing face.

There was nothing going on between him and Lolita. At best, they could someday be friends, but he doubted it. Women weren't really _friends_ with Whit Darcy; they were either lovers, or wished to be lovers. The girl was neither of those things. She was attractive, yes, clever and talented, but there was nothing there. She was younger than his own baby sister; he couldn't see anything other than resentment, or at the most, paternal feelings in the future. She was a child. She needed to grow up, and get over herself.

So why was he jealous of James Wickham all of a sudden?

When Joan had called, telling him that Caleb had made reservations for five that evening, he was actually happy – he was never happy when he had to go out with Clarity, who would inevitably turn up, but knowing that Lolita, the fiery young artist who worked a few floors below him, would be there made him smile.

"Do you want me to get her, or should I ring her and tell her to come down?" Joan asked, when the sleek Mercedes pulled to a stop outside of a boring little building about five minutes drive from Darcy Designs.

He looked at it sceptically, it obviously wasn't expensive. It was pretty, in a way, it had large windows almost everywhere, replacing walls in most cases, but instead of the framing being shiny steel with clear cut edges and a modern finish, it looked like a European Provincial frame, stone and wood with Art Deco embellishments, the more he looked at it, the more charming it was, but still, it was odd. He supposed it must have been a very fine building in London in the 1920s, in fact… he looked closely at the front entrance, with it's little archway and bright red door, he could swear that he could see fading, peeling letters of some familiar name.

"Isn't this… cute…" Clarity sneered from the corner. "This was the first Elizabeth Arden Boutique in London – it looks _very_ run down by now, though," she drawled in distaste. "My poor little dolly, having to endure such a travesty as this," she said in supposed sympathy, shaking her head at the building. "But still – it's _very_ chic," she added cheerfully.

"Loli loves it," Joan said, adjusting her seating, as if she wished to get out of the car.

"I'll get her," Darcy announced. Clarity stared in disbelief, but Joan smiled in relief.

"Thanks, she's on the top floor, flat four, down the end of the hall when you get off the lift," she informed him. He nodded, and pulled the door open, sliding out of the vehicle, the cool London night washing over him, drowning out Clarity's sneering objections.

He headed up the steps to the front door, seven, exactly, and pushed it open. The front entrance was a nice little room, decorated in a chintzy-Art Deco style, seemingly with the original wallpaper, and a lot of mismatched photo frames, glorifying the days when the building held some of the finest cosmetics in the Great Depression. It was sweet, but a bit run down. He headed over to the elevator, it was old in style, and he was unsure if it would work. He noted a sort of musty scent as he walked in, and pushed the button for the top floor. The elevator gave a mighty creak, and lurched into life, the little dial above the door moving over Roman numerals as it ascended the building.

He tapped his fingers as he waited. He wondered curiously what she would wear. He liked it when she wore heels. They accentuated her long legs. And he hoped she wore her hair down, he loved the way the curls fell past her shoulders, the ends not far from reaching her elbows when she let her arms hang by her sides. She had magnificent hair. But it was her eyes, those blue eyes the colour of… well, they changed almost everyday depending on what she wore, how she felt, what the weather was like. She had beautiful eyes.

He shook his head. The girl was over ten years his junior, it was ridiculous! She was a child, nothing more than a child. He gave an ironic laugh. Her name was Lolita. He was feeling very much like the protagonist from the novel Lolita – the age gap was ridiculous. He felt like a paedophile simply thinking about it.

Not that there was anything to think about. She was ridiculous. Amusing, attractive, interesting, but ridiculous. She had talented hands and a quick mind, the company needed someone like her, but that was it. He didn't need her. He didn't need anyone, he reminded himself firmly.

The elevator gave an unsteady creak before it came to a stop, the metal-framed doors sliding open. He stepped into the hallway; there were five rooms altogether, three on the left, two on the right. He walked to the end of the hall, the sounds of Placebo drifting out to his ears. He stopped in front of the last door, with tarnished bronzed numbers reading, again in Roman Numerals, the number four. He knocked loudly, trying to make sure that it would be heard above the music. He heard someone turn down the volume, then a familiar voice cry out; "it's open!".

He pushed open the unlocked door with uncertainty, and stepped into the hall.

The wallpaper was done in pale yellow pinstripes, a few tasteful end tables with some nice flowers or unlit candles, heavy with scent, the walls covered with picture frames and mirrors, like downstairs, but it actually _worked_ better. The frames held either mirrors or pictures ranging from prints of Renaissance art, scenes from popular Hayao Miyazaki films, or even pictures of bands.

He stepped through the hallway, into a room with a couch and two armchairs, an old fireplace that probably hadn't been lit for fifty years, a decent sized TV with a wii console hooked up, and a nice rug covering the polished hardwood floors.

It was nice, cute, but… a mess. There were clothes, books, plushie dolls, shoes, magazines and ribbons everywhere, on the coffee table sat a few empty containers that probably once held take-out, not to mention lengths of material covering almost every surface for no apparent reason.

He stepped over a pair of converse sneakers, and then another pair of platform pink Mary Janes, a book with a Japanese title that he couldn't read, and a piece of chiffon with pins and a needle still in it. From his viewpoint he could see into the kitchen, it had blue pinstripes, and looked relatively clean, as if… it hadn't even been cooked in. Ever.

"I'll be out in a second, just wait," he heard her call. He tried to follow the sound of her voice, because he was frightened that he might be swallowed up by some monster hiding inside the couch, which, now that he noticed, had two black circles and a little mouth sewn on, to resemble…

A face.

He shook his head. Who put faces on their couches?

He found himself backing into another room, hoping that it would be clean. His wish was granted, to a degree, because it wasn't as cluttered and unorganised as the living room. It was of a decent size, with more bookshelves adorning the walls, a large window giving a good view to the outside world, an easel set up in the corner with a canvas and paints and everything, as well as a little computer work station, and sewing machine. There was a baby grand piano with a beanbag beneath it, a few books sitting innocently there. The walls weren't pinstriped, but seemed to be in the process of being painted. The designs and patterns and images were stunning, only half of one wall was covered, but it was amazing.

He looked around in wonder. It was her _space_. He was standing in _her_ _space_. He felt a shiver run through him. It was exhilarating, to say the least.

He stepped out of the room, aware that she was probably ready to go. He headed down the hallway that went through the kitchen/dining area, where light and music streamed from an open door.

"You know, you should probably get a maid in here," he commented, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. The room was light pink with white pinstripes, with white French Provincial furnishings and a large bed with a satin cover. It looked like the room of a Japanese preteen, plushie dolls everywhere, and even more books. It wasn't as messy as the lounge room, and had a huge window overlooking all of London. He could see the Thames, and the London Eye, thousands of coloured lights blinking back at him from the thick glass.

"And you should probably knock before going into a girl's bedroom," she snapped in return. She stood at a dresser, wearing a cute little black dress, it looked a bit like a tutu, with some black lace and a few layers of tulle and chiffon, not over the top, but quite nice. She wore no shoes, but a pair of sheer stockings. She was putting on some earrings, black rosettes, her makeup completed, and hanging around her neck on a silver chain, a little key with a love-heart at the end.

"Your flat is small," he informed her bluntly.

"So is your sense of decency," she retorted, not even glancing at him. He stepped into the room, fully aware that he should probably wait outside. It had a sweet smell of strawberries wafting to his nostrils, it was warm and inviting and very…

_Her_.

He glanced around, inspecting the room that she slept in, changed in, spent every night in. He liked the feeling stirring in the bottom of his stomach as he thought on that concept.

"Surely the company could have found you a bigger apartment," he commented, as she headed to a very _large_ wardrobe, and pulled open the doors.

Really, the wardrobe was huge. Giant.

"This is fine," she replied pointedly, pulling out a pair of black strappy heels. She sat on the bed as she put them on, allowing him to inspect her wardrobe.

"You probably need a bigger apartment just for all of your clothes," he pointed out. "What's this?" he asked, pointing at some sort of fluffy, lacy pink thing.

"Uhh…" she muttered, craning her neck so she could see what he was indicating. "Sweet Lolita Tea Party Dress, with Alice in Wonderland print. It's from Baby the Stars Shine Bright," she answered.

He stepped back. She certainly liked the lace.

"Is it some sort of costume?" he asked uncertainly, glancing over a few other dresses quite similar.

"Hardly," she laughed. "It's more a way of life," she replied, with a grin. "Which one, the emerald green or the sapphire blue?" she asked, fixing her shoes, gesturing to a stand in the corner, with a massive amount of thick satin ribbons, supposedly to go around the waist.

"The green," he replied, picking up one such ribbon and passing it to her. He looked at the floor. It too was hardwood, with a nice rug. He spotted what looked like a white Oxford shirt, clearly a man's. "Doesn't this frighten your boyfriend then?" he asked curiously, not knowing why the site of the shirt made him annoyed.

"Don't have one anymore," she replied distractedly, tying the ribbon around her waist tightly. "We broke up when I got the job in England," she added, upon seeing his questioning glance.

"So you have men's clothing in your room for no reason?" he asked doubtfully, raising his eyebrows questioningly. It looked like an expensive shirt too, silk. She glanced back at him in the mirror, to see what he was looking at.

"That's mine, it's a bathrobe," she replied pointedly.

"Your place is a mess," he informed her, changing the topic to avoid embarrassment.

"You really work hard at that flattery thing, don't you," she snapped in irritation.

"I'm just being honest," he retorted haughtily. "You need to clean it up or something, is it always like this?" he questioned, leaning against the wall.

"Sometimes," she shrugged. "I do things in short, intense bursts. Most of the time it doesn't bother me if it's a bit messy, but sometimes I'll go crazy and sterilize everything," she explained. "I also binge bake," she added cheerily, grabbing her purse and a coat.

"That's probably a mild form of selective OCD," he informed her, but she only shrugged. "Ready?" he asked.

"In a second," she answered, leaving the bedroom. He glanced at his watch. He was surprised at how little time had passed. He followed her into the kitchen, as she poured a glass of water, and pulled a few pills out of a small medicine case on the windowsill. She swallowed them down with speed and no explanation, before she led him out of the flat.

The trip downstairs was filled with awkward silence. They both breathed a sigh of relief as the doors to the elevator opened, and they departed the building, back into the night.

Clarity Bingley nestled into the stretch Mercedes comfortably. Her dress was brand new, a little black lace number with no back, almost no front, with a scandalously high hemline, straight from the latest Chanel catalogue, and a pair of gorgeous shoes from Manolo Blahnick.

She crossed her legs slowly, staring at Darcy through tinted eyelashes. She wanted to fume in anger when he took no notice, simply tapping away with his Blackberry. She was frustrated. He worked so hard, too hard. When they married he would have to cut down on the amount of work he did. She was a very important woman. She refused to play second fiddle to a _company_.

She just wished that he would hurry up about it! She wasn't getting any younger, she had just turned _thirty_, and although the rest of the world thought she was only twenty-seven, she knew that she was no spring chicken. Sure, she had a beautiful body, but she wanted to show that body off on the arm of one of the richest, most handsome bachelors in the world. Darcy.

She knew what he wanted. He wanted a woman with sense, elegance, compassion and beauty, and she could give all of those things to him. But still, she had _no_ intention of giving up her magazine. _Clarity_ was her own creation; she worked damn hard for it, and was always looking for new talent to introduce to her readers.

She wanted that girl, Laurie. She was young, skinny but with curves, as to appeal to that ridiculous circle of women insisting that models needed to be 'real women', with a killer bone structure, ivory skin, gorgeous hair and stunning eyes. Yes, Clarity could admit that other women were beautiful. Not as beautiful as her, of course, but the girl did have looks, looks that she wanted to exploit.

She smirked to herself when she thought of it. Yes, she would have her entourage again. When Gigi saw reason and decided to come back to her, she would have her dolls again. She only had one, Elaine Hurst, who was busy looking after her eighty-seven year old husband anyway. She wanted three. Three was the perfect number. She wanted Loki.

She wasn't an idiot. She sensed something between Lopsy and her Darcy, but she knew that there was nothing there, the stupid girl hated him. Why, no one could guess. But the point was, if she kept Lily in her grips, she would be of no danger to her. She needed to pull the fashion world back into elegance, what with that little hobo-brat Agyness Deyn tramping around in _sneakers_ and _denim_, she needed someone startling like Lela to pull it back into her control. Yes, she would have control again…

"You know, Lennie, I think you need a name," Clarity said thoughtfully. Loli glanced over at her with an expression of distaste, and crossed her legs. She hated limos already, having to put up with Clarity in close-quarters was just painful. She was sharp, beautiful and cunning, and she seemed genuinely interested in Loli, but for all the wrong reasons.

"I have a name," she replied frowningly. "Lolita Moonbeam Grace Starchild Gardiner," she recited. "_Not_ Laurie or Li-Lo or Lu-Lu or Lotus or Lottie, my friends call me _Loli,_" she said firmly.

"We could use those, you know!" Clarity pointed out, a grin spreading over her red lips. "Not Gardiner of course, it's too plain," she said thoughtfully, tapping her lips. Loli rolled her eyes and glanced out the window. "I'm thinking… Lolita Grace? Lolita Moon? Lolita Moonbeam?" she said aloud, glancing around the car to see if anyone agreed.

"What about Lolita Grace Starchild?" suggested Joan.

"Rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it," laughed Cale playfully.

"Bully," Loli replied, poking out her tongue at him. He only chuckled more, his arm loosely hanging over Joan's shoulders, as if it had always belonged there.

"I agree with Joan," Clarity announced. "Lolita Grace Starchild to begin with, then we'll shorten it down to just Lolita, like Chanel or Prada," she informed her.

"I'd prefer Madonna, or Cher, actually," Loli retorted with a smirk. Joan stifled laughter, and Cale chuckled.

"I'm going to call you Lolita from now on," Clarity announced decidedly. "I'll have to start dressing you up soon, you need all the help you can get, Lolita, dearest," she crooned sympathetically, leaning forwards and patting her knee in supposed comfort. Loli tried not to retch.

"You remind me of my stepmother," Loli said, almost morbidly. Joan's eyes widened, but as none of them had met Mrs Bettenne, they didn't get the insult.

"Aw, isn't she sweet? I'm already a mother figure to the little darling!" Clarity squealed, turning to Darcy. "She's so cute. I hope that one day ou – I mean, _my_ children," she corrected herself, but it was clear that it was no error, "will be as cute as her," she drawled, snuggling closer to him. He looked slightly disgusted.

"None of your kids would ever have any minds for themselves, Clarity," Cale pointed out, earning him a scowl.

"Nonsense. My children will be perfect," she said self-assuredly.

"I just hope you don't start practising on Loli, you might frighten her away," he retorted.

"Honestly, Caleb, you're boring me," sneered Clarity, turning away from her brother. "Joan, isn't he a bore?" she questioned, meeting the eyes of the quiet blonde.

Joan looked too frightened to answer, not wanting to insult either Clarity of Cale.

"Depends on your perspective, doesn't it," pointed out Loli. "I mean, _you_ might find him boring, because you don't share the same interests, but maybe Joan finds him absolutely fascinating, because they're both interested in the same things," she offered. Joan sent her a thankful glance, and Loli responded with a small, comforting smile.

"Lolita, dearest, I'd like it if you came over tomorrow," Clarity announced. She stared at Loli strongly, but whether her expression was of dislike or just her usual sour expression was difficult to determine.

"I… I have to work tomorrow, I'm pretty swamped," Loli replied, slow to her excuses.

"Nonsense! Fitz, you can give her the day off, can't you?" she exclaimed, turning to Darcy, who was staring out the window.

"She has an appointment with the director of the Digital Design department tomorrow to discuss the animation of Sony BMG's new website, and a new cooperative commission with Bose Collins for Custard Record's newest artist," he replied in monotone. "She was my employee before she became your doll, Clarity, so I make the final decisions on her schedule," he added, glancing at Clarity momentarily, as she pulled a sullen pout.

"But I _want_ to start getting her measurements, Alannah Hill contacted me, she says that she's doing a new line of lingerie, and Lolita would be _perfect_," she cried, with false misery.

"She works for me, Clarity," he snapped in return. "So instead of standing half-naked in front of a camera, she's actually going to be doing something productive," he informed her pointedly.

"You know, you might want to ask what –" Cale began, glancing back and forwards between the two.

"Oh, don't be silly, you can have someone else do all of that!" Clarity insisted, waving him off with a delicate flick of the wrist.

"_No_, I can't, because she's the only one in the department with the knowledge, skills and experience to animate the graphics that her department has been generating," he responded pointedly.

"Well she's the perfect doll – and Alannah _needs_ a model," Clarity cried, her pout becoming more pronounced.

"This deal is worth at _least_ ten million pounds, not to mention the royalties, and the advertising for the company!" he said irritably. "And I'm sure she'd much rather be working than running around in underwear," he added pointedly.

"You know, if possible, I'd rather work, _whilst_ wearing underwear, if that isn't too much of an issue with you two!" Loli snapped. Clarity and Darcy turned to look at her, as if they had forgotten she was even there. "Why the hell are you two telling me what to do? And Mister Darcy –­"

"I told you, don't call me that," he insisted angrily, but Loli held up her hand to chastise him from interrupting.

"I would _appreciate_ if you could give me some notice as to my schedule from now on, particularly as it _does_ happen to concern me!" she cried.

"Fine then. You're head Graphical Illustrator, you'll report to me every morning at quarter past seven for your new assignments," he said simply, pointedly, folding his arms.

"Wha – what?" she exclaimed, completely in shock. She still hadn't given him a piece of her mind!

"You've just been promoted to a position that I just invented," he replied casually, with an aura of self-importance.

"Wh – who said that I even _want_ this job?" she questioned in frustration, mostly to annoy him.

"You'll get a thirty per cent pay rise," he informed her. "Which isn't that fair, now that I think of it, because you'll probably have a sixty per cent work increase," he added.

"And you're giving me a job that you made up, just to end an argument?" she questioned angrily.

"This isn't an argument, Lo – Miss Gardiner," he retorted, as Loli scowled. "This is business. You're more than capable to handle the workload, and now I'm not giving you more work than your position calls for," he explained. "You were doing more work than anyone else anyway, this just makes sense," he added, shrugging. Loli wanted to hit him, hit his stupid beautiful head and wipe that smug little look off his stupid beautiful face, Sure, he had just promoted her, but for no reason!

"I don't want any special treatment, _sir_," she practically spat.

"Trust me, I wouldn't give you _anything_ that you don't deserve to get," he retorted pointedly. They glared fiercely at each other for a moment; the tension so thick that it stopped the others from even opening their mouths, even Clarity was silent.

The car came to a stop.

"We've arrived, Mister Bingley," the drive announced through the intercom.

"I – uh, thank you, Mortimer," Bingley called, pushing down on the speaker button, before releasing it. "Well then, let's go!" he said brightly, after a moment's hesitation.

The look between Darcy and Loli was broken, and the door pulled open so they could get out. Darcy, being the gentlemen, let Loli get out of the car first, and the moment she was standing on smooth pavement, she stepped quickly away from him, over to Joan. He only glared after her, fire burning in his colourless eyes.

"He – I – I _hate_ him!" Loli spat angrily under her breath. Joan pinched her forearm.

"Quiet, he's your boss, be polite, _please_?" she begged. Loli sighed.

"Fine," she snapped, and turned around to face the restaurant. It was a really gorgeous building; it had once been a police station. It was decorated very tastefully, with valet parking and a few tables covered with linen out the front with a nice view of the gardens for warm nights. Loli hoped that they would be sitting outside.

Feeling Darcy place a hand lightly on her elbow and leading her up the path to enter the restaurant, she couldn't help but bristle with anger. She hoped it was only a coincidence that 'Red Rum' was murder spelt backwards, and that she would be able to contain her temper before she kicked the guy in the balls. She was doing it for Joan, as she constantly reminded herself.

**A/N: You know how much I like reviews? A lot. I like them lots and lots and lots :D**


	11. Dead Ends

**A/N: Not as long as some of the others, but still, it has a new answering machine message! I've worked out some more of the plot now, so maybe it's becoming a bit clearer? I don't like this chapter much, I don't feel like I'm doing the idea justice. So, tell me what you think :D**

"_Hi, Loli isn't here right now. This is her fridge. If you'd like me to take a message, please hold on, I'll just grab a post-it and stick it on myself."_

"Loli, come _on_! I've left you fifteen messages, _fifteen_! And I've had to hear that annoying message _fifteen_ times! It's not my fault – you _agreed_ to go, might I remind you!"

Loli groaned, and rolled over on her couch, digging her face into a cushion. Joan's messages had started off soft and soothing, kind, just like Joan was at heart, before they turned… angry.

"Come on; just _pick up the damn phone_!" Joan cried. Loli let out a quiet growl, and threw her arm out, grabbing for the receiver.

"I'm not talking to you," she snapped pointedly.

"Have you packed? We're leaving this afternoon," Joan reminded her.

"_No_, I haven't packed, because I'm _busy,_ I've been _busy_ recently, and I haven't had time to humour you and your psycho boss!" she retorted pointedly. "I have a _job_. I have to work. It's six-thirty in the morning and you've already left me a million messages, and I have to get ready for _work_ so I can report to my friggen boss with the ten-foot pole up his rear-end, so he could give me _more_ work!" she cried.

"Clarity told you the other night at dinner that we were planning on going tomorrow," Joan reminded her patiently.

"I don't care! I didn't want to _go_!" insisted Loli, sliding off the couch, and beginning to pace. "Have you been outside? It's _hot_. The weather reports say it's going to be _very_ hot over the next three weeks, _particularly_ in the country!" she growled, kicking a Doraemon plushie with extreme force, sending it flying into her Kawaii couch, grinning stupidly at her.

"Loli, _please…_" moaned Joan.

"She's going to dress me up like a porcelain doll. I'll lose fifty pounds."

"Were you _betting _on Clarity?"

Loli winced.

"Chandra and I had a little wager… I was betting that McBitch was only joking, teasing McPosh, and Chandra insisted she was being serious," she explained awkwardly. Joan let out an annoyed _tiff_.

"Right. You had better pack," she said firmly. Loli sighed, and ran a hand through her hair.

"Listen, I am _completely_ swamped, and I _really_ need to do some work tonight, so what if you went with McDreamy and McBitch and McPosh to the McMansion in the McCountry tonight, and I drive over tomorrow?" she offered.

"Oh no, you're going to have some sort of emergency and have to stay! I'm not falling for _that_, Lolita Starchild Gardiner!" Joan retorted sharply.

"Joan, _please_, I'll try my very best to come, I _swear_," she begged. "I have to work. McPosh is a McSlave driver. He's driving me crazy, and I _need_ to finish the Bose Collins commission, or else I'll lose my part of the deal," she pleaded.

"Fine then," Joan sighed finally, after a long pause. "I'll leave my car, you can drive it down to Netherfield first thing tomorrow morning," she said firmly.

"I love you sweetie!" Loli squealed. "You've made my day, _really_, you have," she swore. Joan laughed in good nature.

"You _seriously_ have to stop with all the 'McThis' and 'McThat'," she laughed.

"Well what did you expect when you lent me your Grey's Anatomy DVDs?" Loli asked teasingly. They discussed their final travel plans before the phone was hung up, and Loli collapsed into the couch.

"Sleep…" she moaned, her eyelids fluttering closed.

"_Fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight,_

_Never running from a real fight, she is the one named Sailor Moon!_"

She groaned when the alarm on her mobile went off. She had to have a shower, and get ready for work. She reluctantly pulled herself up from her couch, stepping over an empty pizza box and bottle of Coke, trudging her way to the shower. She hated mornings.

And yet by ten past seven, she was waiting in Darcy's office, calm, cool and collected, wearing a cute black skirt-suit and white blouse, her hair pulled up into a ponytail, and a borrowed pair of Joan's Jimmy Choos. That were going to be returned. Eventually.

She sipped her hot Starbucks coffee slowly, taking in the taste. She had splurged and gone all out, because she missed breakfast and the white chocolate cappuccino with a shot of caramel and whipped cream was her only salvation. She stared out the large window, and wondered if he ever stood up there, and just… thought. She shook her head, and brushed the concept away. She was _not_ going to be thinking of _him_ until absolutely necessary.

"Miss Gardiner," was her simple greeting as Darcy walked into the office, moving swiftly to his desk, flicking through a folder with speed.

"Mc – Mister Darcy," she replied, biting her tongue when her usual insult rose to her lips. "So, what's today's assignment then?" she asked, taking another sip of coffee.

"How's the Sony project going?" he asked, still flicking through files.

"Fine," she answered curtly. "We have a fully functional main page, we're thinking of the same essential layout throughout the rest of the site, but we still have some tweaking to do," she informed him.

"Good."

"And my next assignment?"

"Illustration."

Loli frowned.

"Uh… don't you mean Graphical Illustration?" she asked curiously, but Darcy shook his head.

"No, I mean illustration. For a book," he informed her. "I don't know what it's about, some trashy teenage novel, it might be the one about the vampires, I'm not sure," he added, pulling open a draw on his desk. "Well, it's not _technically_ illustration, but you need to do some traditional media drawings for starters, before we get the rest of the department working on it after the Sony commission is finished," he explained.

"So… I have to draw some pictures for a book, and then the rest of the department starts working on it?" she questioned incredulously. "I don't quite get it," she said honestly.

"It's for the website for the book," he informed her pointedly, pulling forwards a brand new proto-type book, and handed it to her. "The illustrations will appear in the book, and on the website, we'll need the rest of the department working on the website, but not just yet," he explained. "Clear?" he questioned.

Loli looked up from the book. He was staring at her. Not just looking at her, like most people did when they spoke to someone, but actually _staring_ at her. With a look of such intensity that it almost frightened her. She knew instantly that she had underestimated his hatred for her, it ran _very_ deep. She had offended him, time after time, and yet he was still prepared to fight. She had to admire that in the man.

Not to mention the fact that he wasn't wearing his jacket or tie, just trousers and white Oxford shirt with the first two buttons undone. He looked tired, actually.

"Crystal," she replied professionally. "How long do I have to finish these?" she asked.

"Lets say you have them finished by the time you return?" he asked, folding his hands and continuing his staring as she stood.

"You mean from Netherfield?" she asked, grabbing the book.

"We should be arriving by dinner time tonight," he informed her, spinning his chair round and turning to a filing cabinet, continuing his usual business. "Are we picking you up at your house, or Joan's?" he asked, turning back around, another folder in his hands.

"Uhh… you aren't picking me up," she replied, deciding that she might as well be honest. "And I won't be there for dinner tonight, either," she added, her tone a little more cool than necessary. She wanted to finish her coffee and get to work, not discuss travel arrangements.

"Oh."

She turned to glance at him when she heard his response. It was a quiet 'oh', a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

"Oh…"

The second 'oh' was different, still slight hints of disappointment, but there was also a little bit of relief to it. She wanted to mention that she would probably be coming the next day – depending on how she felt in the morning, but thought better of it. He didn't need to know everything about her, and he certainly didn't care.

"I'd better go, lots of work to do," she muttered, putting the book in her bag.

"Yes… I – good day, Miss Gardiner," Darcy mumbled. Loli pushed open the door, and left, without glancing back.

It was a _hot_ day. The sun rose high in the sky, giving unseasonable weather in dreary London-Town, and Loli certainly felt it. The air conditioner was on full blast, but that didn't stop the heat from seeping through every little crevice and crack.

She glanced at her watch. She _could_ have lunch, but she didn't have time. Turning back to Dreamweaver, she continued to work on the Sony commission. She hadn't even had a chance to look at the book yet, she had been so busy with the website designs. Since McPosh had decided to make her the main illustrator in the entire department, she had been working twice as hard.

She glanced out into the mass of cubicles and co-workers. She hadn't even had time to chat to any of them about anything that wasn't work, she had been so busy. They were all busy. Darcy _was_ a slave driver, and they all knew him well enough to steer clear of him. They all silently pitied Loli for being forced into his company, but she didn't need their pity. She needed to work.

"Dearest, you simply work _too_ hard!" came a nasally, pinched sort of voice. She raised her gaze from the computer screen, and turned to the doorway.

"Er… Colin, wasn't it?" she questioned, frowning slightly. "Colin Williams or something like that," she clarified.

"Of _course_ it is, Loli, dearest," he gushed, slicking back his short hair with a strange little grin. He was wearing a pair of jeans just a _little_ too high on his hips, with an obviously expensive Calvin Klein tee-shirt, a particularly ugly one however, and it was _tucked in_. She felt a shiver run through her spine, and the taste of bile rise to her throat.

"Umm… what are you doing here?" she questioned, trying to resist the urge to barf all over him. She turned back to her computer.

"Why, to take you to lunch, of course!" he exclaimed, stepping into the office space. "Remember when we had dinner together at your parent's place?" he questioned.

"You mean, when _you_ had dinner at my parents place, whilst I was having dinner there too? We didn't have dinner _together_, we co-existed at the same dining table," she snapped, as Colin gave a funny little forced chuckle.

"Oh Loli, you're so _funny_," he replied. "Come on then, let's go have something to eat," he said, offering one large, hairy hand to her. She shuddered, and ignored him for as long as possible.

"Seriously, I have to work, Colin," she said firmly. "My boss is really tough, I don't want to get fired," she snapped.

"_Loli_, do you _want_ me to tell your mother how rude you're being?" Colin asked pointedly, stepping forwards and crossing his arms. Loli groaned.

"Fine. We'll have lunch. Coffee, or whatever, but then I need to get back to work!" she insisted angrily, standing up. Colin gave a smirk, and held out his hand once more for her to take it. She rolled her eyes, and walked straight past him. "And you're buying!" she added curtly.

The following half hour was the most painful of her entire life. She discovered that Billy was born in Wales, and grew up in East London with his mother, before dropping out of med school and taking a degree in accounting. He worked for a bank for a little while, and then got a job from Lady Ekaterina, who was some sort of heiress or something. She also learnt every single decorating and design aspect of her Ladyship's estate, down to the colour, price and texture of the rug in the front-west sitting room.

"As fascinating as this _is_, Colin, I'm not _that _interested, to be perfectly honest," she declared after ten minutes discussion about how the lawn was the perfect length. Colin looked shocked, but not offended. He was too moronic to be offended.

"But _Loli_!" he objected. She waited for a moment to hear his protests, only to discover he had none. Pouting and shouting her name was is form of defence.

"Err… _right_…" she muttered.

"I prefer you when you're not wearing such silly clothing," Colin said randomly, looking her up and down. Loli almost groaned in frustration, and sipped the remainder of her coffee. Colin had insisted on picking out some sort of supposedly 'lovely' salad for her, which proved to be unbearable. So, coffee substituted her second meal for the day. She glanced at her watch; it would take her five minutes to get back into her office from the café he had selected. She wondered if she could make it in three.

"Listen, I have to go," Loli stated, rising to her feet. "No – don't get up," she insisted, before turning heel, and walking into the street.

It was annoying, to say the least. Fanny was trying to interfere with her life by selecting a 'nice' husband for her. Her stepmother had given up on her long ago – and since she believed her incapable of looking after herself, her only solution was to find the apparently reckless, uncontrollable, and irresponsible Loli a husband.

But that was unfair logic, the thought, as she crossed the street, heading back to work. She wanted to find husbands for all of her girls, particularly Joan. Ah yes, Joan, the beauty of the family, Loli thought, with a smile. She had noticed that recently, Joan's skin had grown tougher. Or rather – she was putting up with less of Loli's crap. That thought made her laugh. But she respected Joan, for all her sensibilities and all her forceful logic. All she wanted was to look after her sister, and that was what she was achieving.

Loli felt guilty about what she was doing, but it was just stupid and impractical for her to go to Netherfield Park, she would be intruding. She knew Joan didn't mind, because Joan was the guest of honour, but Loli was just a third wheel. She would be poked and prodded measured and photographed by Clarity, all the while feeling guilty for just _being_ there. She couldn't go. It was a stupid concept.

That was her mantra throughout the rest of the day. She shouldn't go. It wasn't a good idea. She would be intruding.

But that didn't help when she finally got home at seven o'clock, and clicked on her answering machine.

"_Loli, it's me,_" Joan's voice began. "_Listen, my knee is feeling really sore, and I haven't told anyone yet, we only just got here, I don't want to worry anyone. So when you come tomorrow, do you think you could bring my brace, magnesium and heating pads? And you're going to be massaging it a LOT too, darling, because it's REALLY killing me. I can't wait to see you tomorrow, love you._"

She groaned, and sunk into her grinning couch. Great. Now she _had_ to go.

**A/N: Okay, if you read the slight reference to 'Twilight' (see Darcy's conversation with Loli further up the page when he tells her about her new commission, illustrating a teenage novel) and started shaking your fists in anger at the computer, don't, please. Remember, **_**Darcy**_** thinks that it's trashy, not me. I'll reserve my opinions of the book, because the last time I mentioned what I thought about it, I was the unfortunate victim of a bit of threatening hate mail. So, yeah, just don't flip out, if you're a Twilight fan. Not that Twilight fans are automatically the flippy-outy kind of people, I don't mean to say that, some of my best friends like the book, or that people who like Twilight are instantly a specific kind of person, but… umm… oh dammit. Yes. I love you all. Please review.**


	12. Belle, Ariel or Jasmine?

**A/N: Hopefully this author's note won't be as awkward, lol. So, because I love you, twelve pages. Hehe.**

**Google 'Sweet Lolita jumper skirt' to find what I'm talking about, it's like a pink nightgown. I've got one myself, it's a staple of Sweet Lolita in the summer. The actual link is: **

Loli woke up by habit at around six-thirty, groaning and rolling out of bed, cursing her pink cat clock with fury. She showered, and wrapped a towel around her body, before heading into the kitchen, making some coffee, and beginning to pack.

She wasn't that good with the whole 'packing' concept. She would either over-pack, or under-pack. With no middle ground. She pulled out a decent sized suitcase; it was Hello Kitty, and a few years old… or decades… and childish…

But it didn't matter. It held, it was a good size, and it was very cute. She threw it on her bed, pulled it open, and after putting some music on (Mika was always good for mornings), she opened her wardrobe.

First in went the usual necessities, such as underwear, bras, toiletries, and a few towels. She always felt nervous about borrowing someone else's towels, like it was a dirty practise. Next in went the shorts, jeans, skirts, shirts and blouses, a few Lolita dresses, some nightgowns and pyjamas, books, her miniature sewing kit so she could make a few more plushies whilst she was away, a few plushies to keep her company, more books, shoes, more shoes, and a few more pairs of shoes, a case filled with makeup and accessories, and then, a few more books and shoes.

She squeezed in the last petticoat and pair of stockings before zipping the bag shut, and standing back confidently. She was ready. She was only wearing a towel, but she was ready.

She glanced down.

Maybe the towel had to go.

When the sun had risen into the sky properly, and she had choked down plenty of coffee and some toast, she glanced out the window. It looked like it was going to be very warm.

She sighed, and slid off the barstool in her perfectly cute little kitchen, heading back into the bedroom. She decided on wearing one of her favourite Sweet Lolita jumper skirts, it was light, comfortable, and _very_ nice. It was a pale pink with lace and a few small bows, the classic Sweet Lolita jumper skirt style. She pulled on a pair of white knee-high stockings and some pink ballet flats, did her hair, grabbed her suitcase and purse, and walked out of the apartment.

"I hate my life…" she muttered, taking a deep breath.

She supposed she must have looked odd, walking down the street in the early morning, wearing what she was wearing, dragging a Hello Kitty suitcase behind her, but she bore it with a cool, confident smile as she walked to Joan's apartment to fetch her things for her knee and the keys to her car.

The drive to Netherfield was long, but it gave Loli a little time to think. She was weighing up her options, stay in London and be with her family, or move back to Tokyo and not have to endure the boss from hell and Colin McSleazy? It was a tough decision, because she loved being close to Joan, she loved seeing her father again, and Chandra was always a plus, but… Darcy made her so _angry_ sometimes. He was infuriating.

She followed the directions scribbled on a post-it note carefully, down dirt roads and over potholes, past fields and tiny villages and more fields, some sheep…

Field of potatoes.

Field of sheep.

Field of cows.

Field with two horses, five cows, fifteen sheep, and a damn.

Field with lake connecting to damn, which fed a few more sheep.

Sheep.

Potatoes.

Cows.

Horses.

Farmhouse.

Barn.

Petrol station.

Sheep…

She shook her head, and stopped glancing to the side to see what she was passing. She was bound to have an accident if she kept it up.

She turned the radio on, and after fiddling with the stations, because she was a few hours out of London and the frequencies were different, she found one playing underground Indie music of Europe, and settled. She was going to the country for sixteen days. She was going to relax. She was going to have fun.

And judging by the heat radiating from the sun, she was going to _swim_.

Gradually there were less rustic little farm houses and fields of sheep, and more rolling hills and acres of beautiful woodland. She looked forwards to many walks through the trees, hopefully in solace, but if Joan's knee wasn't hurting too much, she wouldn't mind her sister tagging along.

And then she found it. Nestled away in some sort of perfect oasis, hidden by trees, was a large gate, its heavy iron doors held open. She drove through a path lined with oak trees, before she hit gravel after a minute or two, and Netherfield came into view.

She was in love, instantly.

It looked like an oversized villa, really beautiful, and pretty darn big. It was made of a beautiful yellow limestone, with two large pillars at the entrance, and steps leading up to heavy wooden doors. It was gorgeous, three floors of architectural wonder.

She got out of the car slowly, parking it out the front because she had no idea where to put it. She traced the outlines of the seemingly endless expanse of green fields behind the estate with her eyes, the tall hedges, the beautiful purple pansies, before she felt drawn back to the house, open doors on the balcony allowing white linen curtains to flutter in the wind. It was the picture of perfection, down to the ivy growing over the stone and the antique brass knocker on the front door.

She looked around cautiously, wondering if she had gotten the wrong estate. She _knew_ that Cale and Clarity had old money, or at least a _little_ old, but this was… breathtaking. Sure, she had seen pictures of other English homes that made her laugh and cry at once, and this wasn't the finest home in all the world, but it was still very nice. She wondered to herself where she should park Joan's little car, and considered driving it behind the house, hoping to find a car park or anything, because she really wanted to take Joan her knee brace and give her leg a good rub down, before she heard someone clear their throat.

"I thought you weren't coming," she heard a cool, familiar clipped British accent comment. She spun around, and yes, there was Darcy, standing by the car, wearing… well, at best it could be described as _casual_. Loose fitting cream coloured trousers, loafers and a dark French blue V-neck jumper over a white shirt. It actually looked really good on him.

She shook those thoughts from her mind. Yes, he was _ridiculously_ attractive, with his perfect dark hair and his perfect stormy eyes, sharp and brooding, but he was a jerk. So what, he was beautiful. Beautiful people could be jerks too, she reminded herself.

"I wasn't," she replied, in an equally disaffected tone. "But Joan asked me to," she added, when he sent her an expression demanding more information.

"So this is Lolita, then," he stated, looking her up and down. She almost winced, but held it back. She had forgotten that she would be seeing him there.

"This is what Sweet Lolita's wear in the summer," she explained, with a shrug. He raised an eyebrow.

"I thought this was some kind of weird fetish of yours," he admitted. She scowled.

"Where do I park the car, and where is Joan?" she asked curtly. He looked a little disappointed in her reaction, but made to comment towards it.

"Joan is in her room," he informed her. "She said her knee was a bit sore, so she's resting it," he explained. "Are you staying the full sixteen days?" he asked.

"Yes, sorry to disappoint," she retorted, going around to the boot of the car. He didn't want to tell her; that was fine. She pulled out the Hello Kitty suitcase, and closed the door.

"Give me that," he said; half-way between an order and a request.

"I can carry my own bag, _sir_," she practically spat, quirking an eyebrow. "I'm not an invalid," she added.

"We aren't at work, so you don't have to call me sir," he said, with a slight bit of weariness to his clipped tones. "You have two choices. Whit, or Darcy," he informed her, taking the case from her hand, and staring down at her. He was rather tall.

Loli chewed her lip in slight annoyance.

"I'll call you the latter, then," she said finally. "Because you're seriously lacking in the former," she added, with a small smirk. He looked astonished, but slightly… amused?

"Give me the keys, I'll drive the car around the back later," he said finally, his eyes burning into hers. She stepped back, and pulled out her bag from the front seat, before closing the door, and tossing him the keys. He was about to take her other bag from her, but she pulled away.

"I can carry my own bag."

"I own those hands, remember? Can't have them damaged," he retorted pointedly. Loli scowled in anger.

"You _own_ my hands?" she questioned incredulously.

"I pay for them," he said, giving a small, disinterested shrug.

"They're _my_ hands, and _I'll_ risk the damage, thank you very much!" she cried pointedly. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you twenty-one now? I know you're still a child, but weren't you supposed to grow out of that teenage stage a few years ago?" he asked curtly.

"Funny, I would have thought you had a bit more time before you ascended into the grumpy old man phase," she snapped, heading up to the house.

"Splendid. A tantrum. So we've turned the clock back, what, ten years now?" he asked coolly, following close behind.

"Let's hope so, because the way you're acting, the only way you would _survive_ the beating I swear to God you so sorely deserve because of the way you're pissing me of is if I have the arm of an eleven year old girl!" she retorted angrily, stopping suddenly and spinning around.

She stopped a little too suddenly, too suddenly for Darcy, who walked right into her. His large frame pushed into hers, about half his size, making her stumble backwards, the burning sensation of his skin so close to hers and the dangerously strong expression in his eyes being pushed away by the feel of the gravelled path on her backside and spine.

He put the case down quickly and sunk to his knees, grabbing her arms.

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly, his words jumbled and said in only one breath. He looked alarmed, and slightly worried. She pulled back from his hands, not caring to wonder why her flesh felt hot at his simple touch.

"I'm fine," she replied pointedly. "Really, I'm fine!" she insisted, when he sent another worried glance over her form. She rolled her eyes. "You didn't damage your hands, if that's what you're worried about," she added dryly, holding up her hands for his inspection.

"You're bleeding," he muttered quickly, taking his hands in hers. She glanced down at her palms; she had gotten a slight graze from the gravel as she tried to break her fall. He was carefully brushing away bits of dirt and gravel with his thumbs, staring down at them with concern. He pulled out a clean pressed white handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped away some of the blood, which was pooling quickly.

"Don't bother, you've probably ruined your handkerchief, it's going to bleed for a while, and it's not going to be light," she informed him.

"I – it's not that deep," he muttered, inspecting the flesh. "God dammit – you stopped so quickly," he said, probably the closest thing she was going to get to an apology, before pressing the handkerchief to her palms again.

"No, you don't get it," she interrupted. "I've been really anaemic for most of my life, I've got probably the crappiest iron and platelet levels, so I bleed a lot, really easily," she tried to explain. "It's not your fault, don't worry about it," she urged him. He glanced back up at her.

"The pills."

"I take them to stop me from bleeding out from a papercut," she explained simply.

"How serious is it?" he asked, as she shrugged.

"It's getting better, I used to get huge purple bruises from when I slept when I was a kid," she informed him. "Listen, it wasn't your fault. You don't have to pretend you care," she said, with a slight edge. Something flickered in the back of his eyes.

"I do care. I told you, I own those hands now," he responded curtly, pulling his gaze away from her eyes. He placed his hands on her forearms, and carefully helped her to her feet.

"Bloody hell – I'm not a porcelain doll," she snapped, noting how delicately he was treating her. She was actually surprised he had such delicacy within him at all.

"Give me your bag," he demanded, when she picked up her purse. She rolled her eyes, and let him take it. "Keep your hands pressed together, the pressure should alleviate some of the bleeding," he said, making sure she kept the bloodied hanky pressed to her skin. "Ever been put in a hospital?" he asked, as they began walking up to the house.

"More times than I want to count," she replied with a grimace. "Couldn't play much contact sport when I was a child either, I had to sit out most of the time," she added.

"Is there any cause for it?" he asked, but she only shrugged.

"I'd love it if you could give me one, but no one has ever been able to," she retorted. "It's not so bad, it doesn't bother me anymore, I just have to take some pills, that's all," she explained in a nonchalant tone.

"So you can't give blood?"

"Who would want my blood?" she asked, with a laugh. He nodded slowly. "And don't you _dare_ ask about my period, either," she said firmly, laughter on her lips.

"I wasn't going to," he defended, looking uncomfortable. "_No_ man would bring that up by choice," he added, his eyes not meeting hers.

"You'd be surprised," she replied, with a smirk.

"But now that you brought it up…" he trailed off. Loli's eyes widened.

"Umm… well, let's just say that it's not a fun time, but…" she managed to get out slowly. "God, I don't know how to put this," she breathed quickly.

"Just say it, I have a sister not much older than you," he threw in, as they started to ascend the steps.

"It's over quickly, and I don't have the side-effects other women have," she said finally. "The quack wants to put me on the pill so that it… err, helps, but I don't really…" she winced.

"Don't go on the pill, it'll destroy you from the inside out," he advised.

"Why, are you on it?" she asked innocently. He only rolled his eyes.

"Sure, I'm on the pill, I just wanted my chest to fill out a bit," he said sarcastically.

"Nah, yours are fine," she replied, waving him off. "You're at _least_ a B cup, have you tried padding your bra with tissues or something?" she suggested, quirking her eyebrow again.

"I did, but then some diseased girl stole my handkerchief," he retorted dryly. Loli laughed.

She actually _laughed_ at something he said.

She wanted to scrub her skin clean.

"It doesn't look salvageable," she commented, holding up the square of silk, almost completely drenched in crimson blood.

"Has the bleeding stopped?" he asked, glancing at her hands. It was only a few surface cuts, really.

"Not quite, I'll run it under some water after I find Joan," she shrugged.

"I'll take your bags up, you wash your hands in the kitchen and I'll be down in a minute," he said, pushing at the door with his forearm. It was large and heavy, but he was apparently very strong.

"Don't tell me what to do," Loli snapped, her irritation returning.

"Kitchen is through here, down the hall, and to the right," he said simply, heading straight for a grand staircase, her bags in tow.

She looked around in wonder. It really was very nice, with hardwood floors, nice dark rugs and a heavy chandelier hanging from the roof, the colour scheme was very nice and refined, but Loli had the feeling that Clarity had done a lot of the decoration – it had a sort of chintzy, ostentatious look to it. The entrance hall was large, with very high ceilings, allowing you to see up two floors, dark mahogany doors hiding bedrooms and billiard rooms and the famous Netherfield library, but her eyes followed Darcy's form heading up the stairs, before she realised what she was doing, and tried to convince herself that she was really inspecting the beautiful wooden banister. She shook her head.

She followed his directions to find the kitchen, and hesitatingly pushed the swinging door open. It was large and modern, with industrial sized fridges and stoves and ovens, and there was someone working in there, a chef, chopping away at what could only be lunch.

"Hi – umm, I'm a guest here, I just… got here, and I cut my hands," she explained, when the heavy lady turned to look at her. She smiled.

"You must be Miss Bettenne's sister, Loli, right?" she questioned, stepping towards her and inspecting her hands. "I'm Michelle, the cook here," she introduced herself, pulling away at the handkerchief.

"Pleased to meet you, and yes, it is Loli," she replied, with a slight smile. Michelle frowned, shook her head, and clicked her tongue. She had a very motherly and maternal aura to her, she looked to be in her early thirties, and she was large, but not unattractive. But most of all she looked tired, as if the company there was wearing her down. And working for someone like Clarity, Loli didn't doubt that.

"Now _how_ on earth did you do that, young lady?" Michelle questioned, frowned at her hands. Loli laughed a little, and shrugged.

"Fell, I suppose," she answered, with a grin. She saw Michelle glance up, and she knew it could only be Darcy walking into the kitchen. "Actually, my boss brutally attacked me, he's worried that I might take over his company, so he decided to do away with me," she corrected, with a twinkle in her eyes and laughter in her voice. "Then he started asking inappropriate questions, and revealed that he's a cross dresser to me," she added. Michelle looked halfway shocked, and halfway amused.

"Hardly," she heard Darcy sneer dryly. She turned her head; he was standing in the doorway, his arms folded. "I've got it from here, Mrs Smyth," he said, glancing over at Michelle, who nodded, and headed back over to the island, chopping up tomatoes for a salad.

Darcy headed over to the sink, next to where Loli was standing, with purpose and his usual incredible gravity surrounding him, his face once more sharp; his expression harsh.

His natural face.

So why the hell would he put on a mask for some stupid little employee like her?

"I told you to wash your hands," he said, turning the tap on at the sink, and grabbing her wrists, pulling her closer to it. Loli pulled back slightly, and managed to lift herself up to sit on the bench, her legs dangling beneath her, hands held towards the sink, before he pulled them under the jet of water.

"I told you not to – ouch!" she cried, startled by the hot water hitting her hands, blood running from the damp hanky into the drain. He started to rattle through the cupboard above the sink, pulling out a little red first aid box.

"You could get an infection," he said shortly, with disinterested tact.

"It's a _scratch_, Darcy," she snapped in annoyance. He pulled out a little bottle of iodine, and took off the cap. "Is that going to hurt?" she asked.

"Don't scream," he ordered her. She pulled away.

"I told you, it's just a _scratch_!" she insisted.

"Do you know what's in the gravel in the driveway?" he asked her pointedly. She shook her head. "It's coated in lead paint. If that gets into your bloodstream, you're in serious trouble."

He sounded… angry. Harsh, cold, and angry, staring down at her, trying to use his size and the gravity of his eyes to intimidate her.

"Do it."

Her voice was firm and strong.

"It's going to sting a lot, wait a minute so you can –"

"_Do _it," she demanded, holding her hands palm side up. It looked like there were still bits of gravel and dirt clogged up over the red skin.

"_Wait_ until it stops stinging from the water!" he insisted. Loli groaned, rolled her eyes, and took the bottle from his hands, splashing it over her left palm. She made a sharp intake of air, bit her lip, kicked her leg into the cupboard (but it was hard wood so it didn't do any damage), and glared at her hand in determination, before taking the bottle in her other hand, and splashing it over her right palm. Her jaw clenched, and she swore, but she didn't cry out in pain.

She put the bottle down with shaky hands, covered in the brown liquid.

"Are you a _complete imbecile_?" Darcy cried, when he had discovered his senses. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" he questioned. "That thing kills cells, kills _flesh_, it burns and it stings like all hell, probably the only form of useful torture in the world, and you _poured it on your hands_?" he exclaimed. "Why the hell aren't you screaming in pain?"

"I've been working for you for a while now, Darcy, I'm used to pain," she snapped with a strained voice. Darcy ignored her comment, and started dapping away the excess iodine from her skin, washing some of it away with water, her skin still an ugly yellow-orange hue. "How is Joan?" she asked, through gritted teeth.

"You've had half a bottle of iodine poured over your skin, and you ask how your _step-sister_ is going?" he questioned in incredulous annoyance.

"She called, and told me her knee hurt," Loli replied, her hands still stinging strongly, but she didn't want to let it on, let _Darcy_ know.

"She's your step-sister. So what if her knee hurt a little, she can manage," he said curtly, dabbing away the last of the excess iodine.

"Stop saying 'step-sister' like it's some sort of disease," she muttered with irritation.

"She is, isn't she? She's just your step-sister, you aren't even related," he responded, glancing up at her, before he turned to the first-aid box, and pulled out a box of assorted band-aids and plasters. "You've got… how many half-siblings? Two brothers and five sisters?" he questioned.

"Yes, but Joan is… Joan! She's perfect, I love her," Loli shrugged. "Hey, what are you doing?" she questioned, when he pulled out two plain white pieces of sterilized gauze to cover her palms.

"I'm putting something over it so that you don't get an infection, and pour a fucking _halogen_ or whatever over your hands again," he answered coolly.

"I know, but they have Disney Princess ones!" she exclaimed, looking at the box. He stared down doubtfully.

"You want a _Disney Princess_ piece of gauze for your hands?" he questioned.

"Well, they have _Cars_, but they're for boys, and I never really liked the movie," she shrugged. Darcy shook his head in disbelief.

"Fine. Rapunzel, Jasmine, Aurora, Ariel or Snow White?" he asked, sighing in defeat, and disbelief.

"What about Belle?" she asked curiously.

"Belle wasn't a Princess," he muttered. "She was the just the daughter of a farmer or whatever," he added, disappointed that he actually had this knowledge.

"Fine then, Ariel," she sighed, as Darcy began to rattle through the box. "Or… maybe Jasmine. I like Jasmine too," she said thoughtfully. "She had a cool pet, I really liked Rajah. I'd like a pet panda through, instead of a tiger," she added.

"I'd think Rapunzel more fitting, you've got such long hair," he commented. "They have ones with all of them together, if you want," he offered, pulling out two of the larger band-aids, big enough to cover the wounded area.

"That'll do then," she said, holding out her hands. He put the plasters on delicately, being careful not to sting her hands.

"So the iodine really didn't hurt?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"It hurt like _crap_, as a matter of fact, but you did ask me not to scream," she replied, inspecting the band-aid on her left hand with curiosity. "Hey, they do _too_ have Belle on this!" she cried.

"You could have screamed, if you want, I wouldn't have minded," he replied, sticking the other plaster on. "That stuff canes. I always destroy whatever is in close contact, and scream my head off when I have to use it," he informed her. "But you took that well. Better than I would have. You can fake scream if you want too, just for the hell of it, and for the sake of my ego," he added, something dangerously close to humour rising up in his eyes.

"Hmm… I bet you say that to all the girls," Loli commented teasingly, swinging her legs beneath her. He looked up in shock, and was going to say something but thought better of it.

She smirked.

"Finished?" she asked, with a cool smile.

"Am I – what – you – I?"

"With my hands, Mr King of Conversation," she clarified, with a small laugh.

"I – yes."

"Thanks for that," she said, sliding off the bench. "Where's Joan's room?" she asked curiously. "I mean, there's probably going to be about a million rooms in this place, I don't want to get lost," she added.

"Up the stairs, take a right, the second from the end on the left," he replied. "I put your bags in a room opposite hers, second from the end on the right," he informed her.

"Thanks," she replied, giving him something of a smile, and leaving the kitchen. He stared at the space she had been the scent of fresh strawberries still hanging in the air.

"No problem…"

**A/N: Yeah, so Loli doesn't have an exciting explanation to the pills she had to take, simply a blood clotting disorder… dull, I know. **


	13. Luncheon of Doom

**A/N: Alright, sorry about the delay with the update, but I have two words for you: my mother. I went into the city to have my hair cut (I got bangs :D), and upon my return, I discovered that she had rearranged EVERYTHING, in the process, damaging my desktop computer, where I write my stories. Or rather, the mouse and keyboard. So I couldn't do anything until I got new ones, and well, here they are, shiny, new, and PINK!!! So, yeah. That's it.**

**Disclaimer: If you recognise it, I probably don't own it.**

**Yet.**

"He's not a man-bitch, Loli," Joan sighed, rolling her eyes at her sister's complaints.

"Yes he _is_, he's a complete and _total_ man-bitch," she retorted pointedly, her nimble fingers massaging the flesh around Joan's knee slowly. Joan lay on the bed on her back, Loli sitting before her, legs folded, her sister's leg in hands.

"And you aren't prejudiced in the least," Joan threw in, with a slight grin. "He's sweet, I really like him," she insisted, but Loli only scoffed.

"Surely not as much as _Cale_, I'm sure," she teased with a sly grin. Joan flushed, and averted her gaze.

"Whit really is quite nice, Loli. He just doesn't talk that much, he's terribly shy," she tried to explain, amidst Loli's eye rolling.

"Yeah, well sometimes he talks plenty," she muttered in irritation.

"He's your _boss_, Loli, you _have _to put up with him," Joan sighed, lying back and sinking her head into the soft pillows.

"It's a really nice house, by the way," she commented, glancing around. The room that Joan was staying in looked like a suite in the Palace, it was ostentatious and chintzy and terribly formal, but _God_ it was gorgeous. There was a huge bed in the centre of the room, a huge four-poster bed with luxurious red velvet curtains, and it was ever so soft to the touch, like sitting on a cloud. There was a large build in wardrobe, and a mirror the size of a small car. The windows were tall, with long white curtains fluttering in the breeze, and connected to the room was an unsuite bathroom, complete with a spa bath.

"Isn't it just?" Joan commented, sighing and looking around wistfully.

"I haven't seen McBitch and McDreamy yet, are they here?" she asked curiously, squirting a bit more soothing lavender cream onto her hands, and continuing to rub it into the skin.

"Oh yes, but Clarity had to see to something in town, which is a fair bit away, and she insisted on Cale coming," she explained. "They should be back by lunch, they'll both be thrilled to see you," she commented brightly, her perfect pink lips curved into a perfect smile.

"I doubt it," scoffed Loli. "McBitch hates me," she reminded her sister, when she frowned.

"She does _not_ hate you, she loves you!" Joan objected firmly. "She asked me to bring all of my photography equipment so we could do a photo shoot of you, she's got this image of you being a little Victorian Princess in this house, she says that she wants a return of elegance to the fashion world," she recited. Loli rolled her eyes.

"She's probably not serious about this, I mean, what motives would she have to take pictures of _me_?" Loli questioned.

"Well, you have to admit, you _are_ very photogenic," Joan pointed out, sinking softly into the 1000-thread count sheets.

"_You're_ the one that paid your way through college by modelling, my dear sibling," Loli reminded her. "You're gorgeous, why doesn't she take photos of you, hmm?" she questioned rhetorically.

"Because _you're_ interesting, Lolita Grace Starchild," she laughed in response. "And I had no other options than to pay for college myself, Mum couldn't afford it back then," she added quietly.

"And she kept on trying to get you to accept your Dad's offer to pay," Loli commented, rolling her eyes. "Your mother is a crazy woman. I like mine better," she grinned, as Joan laughed.

"Yours is very sweet, I admit," she smiled.

"How's the knee feeling?" Loli asked.

"Much better, thank you," Joan said cheerfully. "I think it'll be fine if I put the brace on for a few days, you've really saved my life," she said with confidence, sitting up. "And thanks for turning up, too," she added, smiling knowingly.

"Hmm… well, you can make it up to me by letting me photoshop those pictures so I look respectable," she retorted, with a smirk on her full lips.

"How about braiding your hair for you?" Joan offered, with a cheeky grin.

"That'll do then," laughed Loli.

"I'm glad you came," Joan said sweetly, the laughter still twinkling in her eyes.

"Yeah. So am I," Loli sighed, with a soft smile as the gazed out the window. "I'm very glad."

But it was a lie.

Cale and Clarity returned in time for a late, apparently Clarity's 'errands' in 'town' was actually her fetching more clothing for the unsuspected heat wave running through the country. And 'town' was London.

Cale looked annoyed to have been dragged to the city for no reason, whilst he could have been spending the day with Joan, but he said nothing of the matter.

"Loli! You got here this morning then?" he greeted cheerfully, when he spotted her descending the stairs to join them all for lunch.

"Yeah, a few hours ago," she replied, with a grin when she got to the floor. Clarity was already spewing on about nothing to Joan, who was nodding patiently, and smiling at the appropriate moments. Darcy was standing in the hall too, but leaning against the wall, glaring at Loli with all the fire and intensity that his eyes could contain. "Did you have fun?" she asked teasingly, but Cale rolled his eyes, and smiled down at her. She fancied that he could easily be the elder brother she never had, and her the younger sister than _he_ had never had.

"No comment," he replied cheekily. "Have you had lunch yet?" he asked, but she shook her head. "Good, because I'm _starving_," he exclaimed with a grin.

"Men and their stomachs," laughed Loli, shaking her head.

"Quiet there kiddo, we have brains too, you know," he reminded her.

"Right. Sure. About that." Loli replied teasingly, earning her a scoff.

"Joan, your sister is teasing me," Cale announced, turning his head. Joan blushed, and smiled prettily.

"She's like that," she laughed. "Can't help you though, but try distracting her with something pink," she suggested. Loli grinned, and rolled her today aquamarine-blue eyes.

"I'm afraid I don't have anything pink on my person, will something shiny suffice?" Cale asked Loli with a playful grin.

"Only if it's Tiffanies," she retorted with a smirk. Cale laughed, and shook his head.

"Sorry, Rolex," he apologised, with a goofy grin. "Shall we have lunch outside today?" he asked the group.

"_Cale_, honestly, it's _far_ too hot," scoffed Clarity.

"I'm not wearing my Country Lolita Picnic ensemble," Loli objected teasingly.

"You have a _picnic_ outfit?" Cale questioned, quirking a ginger eyebrow.

"It comes with a straw bonnet," she laughed.

"Do you have indoor tea-room Lolita?" he asked curiously. Loli looked thoughtful.

"I have a Hatter's Tea Party dress, if you're interested," she offered. "It has a top hat and dormouse plushie," she grinned.

"We'll probably starve to death if you continue asking her about her wardrobe, Caleb," Darcy said in a bored, casual voice. He was still leaning against the doorway, his sweater gone, wearing just the button up white shirt, sleaves rolled up to his elbows.

He had very nice forearms.

And, with his shirt unbuttoned a little at the top, she could see his slender, defined throat, the curve of his Adam's apple, his collarbone, the dip of his throat...

She glanced up to his face; he knew that she was looking at him. He crossed his arms, and raised his eyebrows, a slight smirk gracing his lips. Oh yes, he _knew_ he was gorgeous, and didn't he have fun reminding her.

She quickly turned away, fighting the blush rising to her cheeks when she was discovered, back to Cale, who was saying something to Joan. It was decided that they would eat in the tea-room.

"So what do Lolita's do, exactly?" Cale asked Loli curiously, after he had informed Michelle and they headed through the halls to the tea-room.

"Weeeeeeeeeellllllllllll…" Loli began, looking thoughtful. "Most people just wear a bit of Lolita every now and then with their usual clothing for fun, like a bell skirt with a tee-shirt or stockings or a cutsew or something like that, just to liven things up," she began. "And then you get people who'll wear full Lolita when they're going to an anime convention, or into the city, you see a few in China town, if you're lucky, but Lolita's are mainly Japan based, around Tokyo, the Harajaku area to be specific, because that's where you have the biggest concentration of people, and some of the weirdest fashion," she explained.

"And… where did you live?" he asked curiously.

"Right in the middle of Tokyo, I wasn't that far from Harajaku Station though," she grinned.

"So, Lolita is just a fashion thing?" he questioned.

"Well, not really. Like I said, you get some people who only wear a little and very rarely, some who wear the full Lolita but hardly ever, and then some who wear it whenever they can," she explained. "And a lot of Lolita's do more than just dress up, but it's not much use if you don't have another one, you really need at least two Lolita's," she continued. "Holding tea parties, going to the opera and the theatre and the ballet, going on picnics, there's Lolita literature and mangas and movies and music, a lot of Lolita's learn musical instruments like the harp and the piano too, it's about the culture as much as the fashion," she continued.

"She's rambling now," Joan laughed, patting Loli on the back.

"And fairs and theme parks are really good too, mostly it's about doing childish things that make you happy, and having very tasteful manners is a big part of it too," she added. "So when you're wearing full Lolita, it's normally expected that you behave politely, which is hard, but you get the hang of it," she explained.

Cale was laughing as they entered the 'tea-room'. It was a sweet little room, with lots of windows, all open to catch the breeze. It had nice decoration, a yellow-cream colour for the tiled floor, walls and the furniture was all white. It was very pretty, a few couches thrown around so people could relax, and some nice potted plants in the corners to liven the place up.

"So what do Lolita's eat then?" he asked, as they sat down.

"Well… it depends on the occasion, but really over the top cakes and cookies and muffins and that, sugary, sweet things," she answered.

"Have you ever done a Lolita… get together then?" he asked curiously, trying to find the right words.

"In Tokyo I did it all the time," she grinned. "I wore Lolita almost every day then, and I had a heap of friends who all wore it, like Sora-Chan, she was my best friend from university," she answered. "It was great. We would have _so_ much fun," she smiled, getting excited.

"I hope you don't eat too many _sweet_ things, Lolita, dear," Clarity said sharply, her red lips curving into a dangerously controlling smile, her strawberry-blonde hair perfectly styled and perched on the top of her head. "We wouldn't want you ruining that lovely figure of yours," she added, with slight bite.

"I've had the worst diet you can imagine for most of my life, and I'm still fine," Loli shrugged, glancing down at her figure. "Alive."

"Well, let's keep it that way!" Clarity declared. "I can't have any of my dollies getting fat now, can I!" she exclaimed, as if the mere concept was the equivalent of the apocalypse.

Loli didn't answer. She _wanted_ to scream something annoying, but held it back, because both Joan and Darcy were staring at her dangerously. She was saved by Michelle, the cook, bustling in with roasted chicken Caesar salad, and a pot of green tea. The meal was most probably picked out by Clarity.

She thanked Michelle, who smiled softly at her, patted her shoulder, and then left the room.

"_Lolita_, you don't need to _thank_ her!" insisted Clarity in exclamation. "It's what the woman is _paid_ for," she tried to explain.

Loli blinked.

"Well… this looks a hell of a lot nicer than anything I could ever make, so I might as well thank her," she responded, indicating the salad on her plate, a masterpiece of the culinary kind.

"So you don't cook?" Cale asked, tearing his eyes away from Joan for a moment.

"Err… the fire department asked me not to," she replied, not meeting his eyes. Her domestic shortcomings always tended to make her uncomfortable. "I can get by, and bake, I like to bake, but the whole cooking thing… that's really above my level of comprehension," she explained.

"I think it's very important for a woman to be able to cook," Clarity announced. "Even _if_ they have a chef, one needs to learn these things," she said decidedly. "I myself took courses in gourmet cooking in high school, I'm a very capable accomplished," she said proudly. She glanced over at Darcy, trying to determine his reaction. He wasn't looking at her, but silently observing the conversation. With his eyes glued to Loli.

"How do you eat?" Cale asked randomly.

"Err…" Loli muttered thoughtfully. "A combination of take away, restaurants, a few simple things I've picked up… and coffee," she answered. "Oh! And Joan. Joan is my _saviour_," she added, grinning to her elder sister, who rolled her eyes, and sipped her tea.

"I've offered to teach her, but she never wants to pay attention," she replied.

"Told you. It's the pink thing. I have too much pink in my flat," Loli determined.

"_Too much_? Wow, I never thought you'd admit that," Joan laughed playfully, as Loli scoffed.

"Coming from the girl who owns six pairs of Jimmy Choo heels," she pointed out teasingly, silencing her sister with a laugh.

"Actually, I only have five. One pair is missing," she replied, with a smirk. "Checkmate," she laughed, when Loli turned pink.

"I'll give them back, I swear," she promised. "Eventually…" she trailed off, causing both Joan and Cale to laugh.

"So do you two share clothing?" Cale asked innocently. Loli scoffed loudly, and Joan only rolled her eyes.

"Some of it we don't mind sharing. But most of Loli's wardrobe is a little…" Joan began, wincing as she searched for the word.

"Ultra-kawaii chibi-tastic Classical-Gothic-Sweet Lolita Harajaku-Chan fansvestive cosplay," Loli threw in instantly. Everyone stared at her blankly. She grinned. "I have a card explaining it, if I'm found unconscious," she laughed, reaching for her cup of tea.

"And I've never been that into ultra-chibi Lolita-Chan fans-whatsy, I'm afraid," Joan added, an amused sparkle in her beautiful eyes. Cale beamed at her, and she blushed coyly.

"So Joan, tell me about yourself," he said suddenly, before Clarity gave a scoff.

"_Honestly_, Caleb, you've asked the poor girl this question at _least_ half a dozen times," she drawled.

"I don't mind, Clarity," Joan smiled softly. "I was born in Hertfordshire, not far from here," she began. "My mother and father divorced when I was ten years old, he lives in America now, and when I was about… well, I'm not sure, eleven or twelve maybe, my mother married Loli's father, and had the triplets Mya, Kayte and Lindsay," she continued. "Loli's custody was split between her mother and her father, but when she was in England we got to be really close, I went to University in London and did a course in Photography and Digital Imaging, I got a job with Clarity magazine on my second year out… and, well, that's me!" she finished, smiling beautifully.

"Fascinating…" Cale responded, completely drawn into her, supporting his head on his hand, and gazing deeply into her eyes. "So you like photography?" he questioned curiously, a goofy smile overcoming his features. Joan turned slightly pink.

"It's my life, I love it," she replied, her dreamy smile matching Cale's. "Photos are everything to me, it lets other people see the world the way I see it, the beauty and the splendour," she gushed, pushing back a strand of blonde hair. She was always happiest when talking about photography.

"It must be so great to make a career out of something you love so much," Cale commented. "I mean, I like books and everything, I'm sorry to say that I'm not much of a reader –" it was here Loli let out an aghast cry, to which he responded with a laughing smile, "- but I don't _love_ publishing, not in the way that you love photography, that is," he explained. Joan's lips curled at the edges.

"I guess I'm really lucky to do something I love so much," she sighed happily.

"Tell me, does creativity run in your family? I mean, you and Loli are both artists, what about your other sisters?" Cale asked curiously. Joan looked thoughtful, and tilted her head slightly.

"Well, Mya plays the piano," she said, after a moment's hesitation. Loli snorted. Joan sent her a disapproving glance. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Am I sensing some hostility here?" laughed Cale, glancing between the two. Clarity suddenly became disinterested, and began talking to Darcy. Or rather, talking _at_ Darcy.

"Mya is still learning the piano," Joan explained. "She… she really liked making up pieces, rather than learning others," she added. Loli picked at her salad.

"And your other sisters?" Cale smiled, his eyes still glued to Joan, as if he could hear her talk for the rest of his life.

"Well, Lindsay likes to design clothes and outfits, Kayte can draw clothing and figures quite well, but she has a problem with things like landscapes and still life," she continued to explain. "I think that they could work really well together, but they're bored enough to give it a shot," she laughed affectionately, her eyes shining with love for her younger sisters.

"My brothers and sisters are pretty creative," Loli threw in, when Joan had ducked her head, not sure if she had said too much or what to say next. Cale looked at her questioningly.

"You have brothers and sisters?" he asked curiously, to which Loli nodded.

"Two little brothers and little two sisters on my mother's side," she explained. "Nathaniel, Ezekiel, Magdalen and Eve, they all love to draw and paint and that," she informed him.

"Sweet," smiled Cale.

"Are they photogenic?" Clarity instantly questioned. Loli stared blankly for a moment, before she came to her senses.

"They're all hideous. Warts, moles, obvious facial disfigurations, plus the girls have beards," she replied. Clarity glared coolly.

"Well that was unexpected," Cale said suddenly, glancing now between his sister and Loli.

"Hardly."

Darcy's comment was random, sudden, drawling and so confusing that Loli wondered if the green tea had gone to her head, and he hadn't said anything at all. She stopped staring at Clarity, and turned to him.

"For the benefit of the uneducated masses, please explain," she requested pointedly, meeting his eyes with challenge.

"I never cater for the masses."

"Yeah. Got that one in the preview," she retorted. He coloured slightly, none of them had alluded to their meeting in Tokyo before, both preferring to pretend that it had never happened.

"Your response wasn't unexpected. It was predictable to your character," he said pointedly, folding his arms and fixing her with an intense glare.

"Well, sorry for being predictable," she responded angrily. "Here, let me re-do that conversation. Clarity said '_Can I please steal your brothers and sisters to make darling little baby-vogue pictures of them wearing matching mini Prada dresses_?', and then I said '_My siblings are not for sharing! I want to keep them all to myself to dress in MY ridiculously over-the-top uncouth Victorian Barbie clothing, because they're MINE!'_" she imitated. Joan and Cale were both laughing, and Clarity rolled her eyes, but Darcy continued to stare. "'_Besides, they're all hideous, ugly little things with the plague_'. And then _Darcy_ would say '_well I guess THAT runs in the family_', and stick his nose up in the air high enough to direct incoming planes," she finished, Cale practically in stitches. "Oops, _so_ sorry, I was the one that directed incoming planes, right? You can direct in your private jet, maybe it's finally landed in Tokyo," she added slyly.

Darcy's jaw tightened; and his gaze became fiercer, more dangerous. His anger was practically radiating in waves from him.

"_Lolita_!" screeched Clarity. "How could you _say_ such a thing to poor Fitz? Why, he didn't do anything to _you_!" she cried, completely aghast, holding one perfectly manicured hand to cover her red lips in exclamation.

"I think it's twice as hilarious, by the fact that he's your boss," chuckled Cale, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he struggled to stay seated on his chair. His strawberry hair, normally spiked, but had now grown a bit longer, was flipping before his eyes as he tossed his head back, and let out a bellowing laugh.

Loli arched a grin and raise of the eyebrows to Darcy, who was still staring at her intensely. She felt a jolt run up her spine, and it wasn't annoyance, or dislike, or hatred, and disgust or even anger, it was something else entirely.

Something _very_ dangerous, considering Cale's last point.

"Sorry 'bout that Darcy, but you _did_ call me predictable, amongst other things," she smiled cheerfully. "I'm finished. Anyone for a walk?"

**A/N: Okay, so which would you rather, they get into a relationship NOW that is extremely messed up, or LATER after lots of angst and 'oh woe is meeeeee', but probably more 'happily ever after'? I'm curious. **

**Oh, and by the way, if you check out my profile page, you can see my new poll regarding an Emma fanfic. Please give me your opinion!**


	14. The Pink Room

**A/N: Okay, so as you've probably guessed so far, my first story SYCMIOYO was about music, and this one is about fashion. Shock horror. So your homework is to look up Alannah Hill, she's an Australian designer with some **_**gorgeous**_** stuff, it's all very Lolita, in a 1930s sense, rather than the Victorian and Rococo manner that most of Lolita follows so closely. But just to get an idea of what Loli is modelling, and if you can find some pictures of the boutiques what her apartment and some parts of Netherfield looks like, I advise you look her up. She's my favourite designer, and pretty much ALL of my wardrobe comes from her catalogues. **

**Disclaimer: Nah… not mine /;~;\**

Loli breathed in the cool, fresh country air; it filled her lungs and made her think of happy, beautiful things, like crunching leaves and butterflies fluttering around the beautiful, perfectly manicured gardens. She glanced back at the house; she was far away enough that she would not be seen. Sitting down on a conveniently located stone bench, she pulled off her shoes and knee-high stockings, taking them in her hands and revelling in the feeling of fresh, cool earth beneath her feet.

No one had opted to come for a walk with her, which suited her fine, because she didn't really _want_ anyone to come. She liked being on her own, she guessed. And she was determined to spend plenty of time revelling in the glorious wonders of Netherfield Park, rather than have to listen to someone talk when they came with her.

The sky was a stunning gold with a pink gradient, the sun low on the horizon. But she still had a little while of daylight left, and she was determined to take advantage of it. Lunch had been painful, at best, and when Clarity informed her that her modiste would be arriving the next day to fit Loli for some pieces that she would model, she decided that it was _definitely_ time to get out of the house. The only situations she remembered being that uncomfortable in revolved around Fanny Bettenne, which was not a good sign in Clarity's favour.

For a moment, she wondered if she had insulted Darcy. But then she pushed the thought from her mind, if she _had_, he would have let her know, and he would have most definitely deserved it. He was a pompous, arrogant, stuck-up jerk with some sort of God complex. He deserved every insult that was hurled at him, she thought firmly, stepping over a fallen branch with determination.

It didn't help, however, that he was both her boss and probably the most ridiculously handsome person on earth. The site of his sleaves pulled up to his forearms made her heart race, and her hands sweat at seeing a glimpse of his neck and collarbone. She couldn't help it! He was gorgeous, and looking wasn't illegal, was it? But the feeling of mortification she felt when he noticed her gaze was just too much. She blushed when even thinking about it. Insulting _him_ was her way of getting back.

She stared forwards at the beautiful setting sun with a wistful gaze. As a child, she had always wanted to chase the sun, to be so close that she could see sunsets forever, that it would never be day nor night, just that beautiful, golden-pink combination in the middle.

She continued to walk away from the house, her thoughts wandering. Before she had left, she checked her emails on her phone, Sora had responded to her very long rant about England, which informed her of everything, Cale and his obsession with Joan, Clarity and her obsession with dolls, and Darcy and his obsession with making her life harder.

Sora's responses and reasoning had been simple and clear, just like Sora always was. Be happy and encourage Cale and Joan, be one of Clarity's dolls, because it was all _very_ Lolita, and shag Darcy at the first opportunity.

Well, she didn't like _all_ of Sora's options, but Clarity at least made a bit more sense. It _was_ all terribly Lolita, and she supposed she could handle being given expensive things for no reason at all.

Loli almost snorted in laughter at herself. Since when was she interested in selling her soul for pretty things? She laughed, and shook her head. To be perfectly honest with herself, she had been looking for ways to justify her reasoning to become one of Clarity's dolls, but the truth was not that she wanted expensive and pretty things for free, or to be treated like a Princess in gorgeous clothing, but to make Joan smile. Joan had been so cheerful about the prospect of photographing Loli, and she couldn't just break her heart, could she?

Loli's laugh turned into a soft sigh. She would do it. Not by choice, and she would put it off for as long as possible, but she wouldn't kick and scream and demand to be let free, she would make surly, cynical comments, but she wouldn't fight. Or, not at least physically.

She started to head back to the house when twilight began to descend, she knew full well that in the country sunlights seemed to go on forever, but you were cloaked in complete darkness very soon afterwards. She didn't bother putting her shoes on when she got to the house; she slipped in through the back and headed straight up to the room that had been designated as hers.

She pushed the door open with hesitation, wondering what her eyes would find.

She smirked.

Then her smirk grew into a small chuckle.

Then she laughed.

It was pink. _Pink_. It was probably the only pink bedroom in the house, and by some sort of lucky, happy twist of fate, she got it.

Then she stopped laughing.

_Darcy_ had probably been responsible for it; after all, he was the one that took her bags up to her room. But that made her smile again, only softly.

She stepped in, and looked around. The room was quite large, similar to Joan's, with it's hardwood floors and plush carpet, a large, chintz white and gold four-poster bed with massive amounts of lace curtains and a soft pink bedspread, all of the furniture matched the bed in white and gold with some sort of chintzy art nouveau style that she adored, the walls were soft pink halfway up, before reaching a curled wooden separator, and then milkwood white, with gloriously decorative architraves and several massive mirrors with stunning gold frames.

Her bags had been carefully placed on a small settee at the foot of the bed, waiting for her to unpack. She continued to look around the room in wonder.

Then she started laughing again.

She noticed things, small things, which caused her laughter to grow. There was a bookcase in the corner, on the top level, too high for her to reach, were several large, finely bound books, she recognised Thomas, Wilde, Coleridge, Blake, Haggard, Eliot and so many more classical authors, but then the rest of the bookshelf was filled with books clearly designed for a small child. On the wall above the door, in coloured wooden block letters was the alphabet, a paper poster on the back of the door was the multiplication table, and she noticed a very large, ornate doll house, complete with working lights and tiny people wearing dresses and slacks. There were several large toyboxes, with things like Winnie the Pooh and Alice in Wonderland painted on the front.

She smiled.

The thought that he could have chosen that room to insult her just didn't go into her head. She knew his motives. In fact, it was rather… sweet.

And terribly, terribly Lolita.

Darcy moved away from his balcony when she came closer to the house. The tiny pink smudge he had watched in the distance was now clear and distinct; he could see her long, silky red curls and shoes held in her dove-like hands. He couldn't risk being seen.

He wondered if she had seen the room yet. It was a bold decision, putting her in the bedroom that _Clarity_ had occupied for the first few years of her life, before she obstinately decided that she needed something twice the size. But he knew that she would like it.

He couldn't resist stepping out of his bedroom, and walking to hers, right next to his. He pushed the ornate door open, and stepped in. He glanced around, and sighed. He felt like a stalker. But somehow, the thought that she would be sleeping in that bed made him tingle a little. He tried to shake such thoughts from his head, she was just a child! He couldn't think of her in that manner, it was wrong.

He strolled around the room, taking in tiny details, wondering how a little girl who had inhabited such a sweet room could have grown to be such a vulture. He sighed, and crossed the room, over to the small settee where her bags sat. What was _with_ her obsession with all things childish? A _Hello Kitty_ suitcase? It was just ridiculous!

But maybe, he thought, sighing, being in touch with your inner child wasn't a bad thing. He certainly wasn't, he thought morosely. The whole ordeal with Gigi, Callum and James Wickham was far too stressful to think of things like toy trains and trips to the zoo.

Seeing James talk to Lolita was just too much. It made him so furious, absolutely blind with rage. Lolita was a _child_, even younger than Gigi; she didn't know what she was risking by talking to James – that was clear. He needed to keep that man away from her; he couldn't risk her being harmed. He didn't want another person to go through the pain and suffering that his sister had had to endure. And someone with her compassionate (if not obstinate) nature would only be in danger around a man like James.

He left the room quietly, after making sure the books he asked to be put in the room for her enjoyment were there. A few well known classical authors, she probably knew all of the books and poetry regardless, but it was better than _Spot goes to School_.

For a brief, tiny moment, he wondered something he shouldn't wonder.

After all, she was quite attractive. He hadn't really noticed it at first, because she wasn't beautiful in an obvious way. It was more like… well; she would make a good model for Clarity. She was also very fiery, stubborn, and, dare he think it? Passionate.

He missed that in his life. Even if it was something simply temporary, despite the fact that he was a great deal older than her, and it had been a while since he had last even _spoken_ to a woman on more intimate levels, let alone acted upon impulse, but she was a strong temptation to forgo his current state of celibacy. Whether that celibacy was willingly or _un_willingly he couldn't say. After all, he _chose_ not to sleep with women that only wanted his money; the damn problem was that _all_ women wanted his money.

She probably did, too. But still, maybe he didn't care? She lived in a tiny little flat, she didn't wear expensive labels or had diamonds and rubies dripping off her, but he actually liked the thought of her being one of Clarity's dolls. She wasn't a puppet, and never would be, but she deserved to be pampered, unlike many women who were pampered regardless. Because she was intelligent, extremely talented, and compassionate towards her stepsister, pampering _her_ whilst forgetting herself. He wouldn't mind that kind of treatment, actually.

He smiled quietly. No, he would like to be the one that did the pampering and caring. He'd like to buy a bigger apartment for her. He'd like to buy expensive clothes and jewellery for her, he'd like to take her out to London's finest restaurants every night, or maybe even cook for her, not force her to eat take-out or two minute noodles.

He glanced in the mirror, wondering for how long he had looked so tired. He sighed, and pushed a bit of his hair back. It was getting too long. He was about to roll his sleaves down and fix his shirt before he remembered the look she had given him earlier in the entrance hall. That look alone had made the entire trip worthwhile – she looked at him like he was the most attractive man she had ever seen.

He didn't roll down his sleaves or button up his collar, he left his shirt as it was, simply because whenever he would spot his uncovered forearm he would be reminded of her gaze, and a smile would creep onto his lips.

He slipped out of his room, and headed down the stairs and through the hall to the library. He had to get away from her. Yes, he liked her, she was attractive, but it was wrong. He shouldn't be interested in her at all, he needed to push her from his mind, and hopefully he could with a good book. There didn't seem much danger in her meeting him in the library, she had a small selection of books in her room, and she had probably bought some with her. He opened the door and slipped into the large, comforting room and sighed.

He could be alone.

He selected a copy of Shakespeare's _Othello_ and settled into the comfortable armchair by the window, cracking the book open.

After he had been reading for a little while, he heard the sounds of water rushing through pipes above him, someone was having a shower. He glanced up, and determined that it was the bathroom that he and Lolita shared, and then returned to his book. He refused to think of her in the shower, like an awkward schoolboy standing outside the girls bathrooms after their PE class. He had more respect and class than that.

Loli's hand reached out to turn off the tap, the jet of hot water ceasing immediately. She pulled the sliding shower door across, filling the room instantly with steam as she blindly reached out for one of the fluffy white towels, drying her eyes before wrapping it around her body, and fetching another one for her long, dripping hair.

She stepped before the ornate mirror with the towel in hand, and began to dry her curls slowly, her mind lost in thought. She couldn't get the image of Darcy's bare forearms and naked throat out of her head; it was swimming around with his sharp, stormy eyes and his curt little smirk, driving her crazy.

She frowned slightly, and actually focused on her image before her. She was kind of pretty, right? So why did he call her only 'tolerable'? She inspected her skin, yes, it was a little pale, but at least it had an even tone. And people were always complimenting on her hair, but could it really be used to direct incoming planes? And she wasn't that short, really! But he _had_ at least complimented her eyes, and she really liked them. But was that it? Did she have no other physical appearances that he thought more than barely 'tolerable'?

She shook her head in annoyance, and stepped out of the bathroom, into the bedroom again. Why did she care, anyway? It wasn't like his opinion mattered to her; he was just her stuck-up boss.

She let the towel drop to the floor, and pulled open one of the draws on the ornate dressing chest with clawed feet. She pulled out a pair of baggy grey sweat pants with elastic on the ankles so that they looked a little like Arabian gypsy pants or something, that were insanely comfortable and a plain white shirt that she had to admit, was getting a little small, but was just as comfortable as the pants. She pulled it down a little, trying to hide the smooth slither of skin revealed on her abdomen, but to no avail. She didn't mind that much, she probably wasn't going to see anyone anyway, she just wanted to see the library that was apparently so wonderful. She pulled on a pair of pink flannel ballet-style slippers with very cute little pink bows, and gave her hair another rubdown. It always took forever to dry.

She took the towel with her, still attempting to dry her hair as she walked down the hall. She knew that Joan was probably talking with Cale downstairs somewhere, she was certain that she had missed dinner but didn't really mind, she wasn't that hungry anyway.

She headed down the stairs, looking around curiously. She took a guess and walked down one of the many halls, scanning the doors thoughtfully, until she came to one with a small engraving on the woodwork. It was of a dolphin curled around an anchor, the sign of Aldus Manutius, a famous Venetian printer from the sixteenth century who made books of a certain size to fit in his client's saddle-bags. She grinned. If that wasn't a sign that she had found the library, then she didn't know what was.

She pushed the door open, and stepped in, immediately looking up. The room was two stories, but where there should have been a floor for the second story, there was just… space, and a winding staircase leading up to get some of the higher books. There were many, _many_ books, most looked like they had never been touched before.

"Oh."

It was then she saw him. He was sitting on a comfortable looking armchair, with a book opened on his lap. She swallowed when she saw his arms and throat again, but tried not to linger on them. She felt a light blush rise in her cheeks.

"I didn't know you were here," she muttered, when he looked up. She realised that she was wearing something akin to daggy old pyjamas and holding a towel in her hand, wet hair dripping everywhere, before she decided that she simply didn't give a damn about what he thought of her.

"Cleary," he replied, turning back to his book with disinterest. "They have these new things you might be interested in, by the way. They're called hairdryers," he informed her. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Did you think of that one all by yourself?" she asked sarcastically.

"No, I stole it from your book of biting insults," he replied. "And apparently my insulting you is something expected too, so you probably knew I was going to say it, and have a comeback lined up especially," he added.

"Yes. I do. Your face."

"I'm honoured to have such wit and humour bestowed upon me. You should get into writing birthday cards."

"Wow, was that sarcasm free of charge, or did I have to pay for it?"

"I'll just dock it from your wages, its tax deductible."

"Asshole."

"Tramp."

"Man-bitch."

"Lolita."

She gasped, and her eyes widened.

"That was just low!" she cried, trying to stop laughter from seeping into her voice. She _was_ annoyed with him, after all. A smirk flickered on his lips, coming dangerously close to a smile.

"You asked for it," he replied, his tone much lighter, more joking, the smile growing slightly. Loli started to laugh, and shook her head.

"I can't believe you just said that," she laughed, running a hand through her wet hair. "It's hardly an insult, but I'm insulted that you think it is."

"I can't believe you called me a man-bitch, that was just completely unexpected," he responded. Loli grinned.

"Hmm. Guess I'm not that predictable then," she smirked teasingly. Darcy met her eyes silently, with his strong, intense gaze, stopping Loli in her tracks. Neither said anything for a long pause, Loli completely unable to move or speak, only stare back at him, as if hypnotised.

"No. I guess not," he said finally, his voice much softer. He broke the spell, and Loli looked away, trying to hide her blush. He was rude, yes, but for a moment there, he was being _funny_ and light, and just then… she bit her lip and moved towards the bookshelves, trying not to dwell on the tingle that ran through every inch of her body when their eyes had met. It was too much to contemplate.

"What are you reading?" she asked shakily, after clearing her throat. She could feel his gaze still on her as she perused the shelves.

"Othello," he replied.

"Are you up to Desdemona's death scene yet? It's my favourite part," she replied, still not looking at him as she unsteadily climbed one of the sliding wooden ladders so she could inspect more of the titles.

"She's murdered by her husband, and you call that your favourite part?" he questioned in slight shock. She shrugged, but still did not turn to him.

"It's a very good scene," she replied simply.

"How are the illustrations coming along?" he asked her, when she said no more.

"Oh, I've done a fair bit now, the book was actually really good," she answered. "I can go get them, if you want," she offered, turning her head to him for a moment. His eyes were glued on her. She supposed he was probably trying to use his mind powers to have her fall off the ladder.

"No, I'll… have a look later," he replied, turning back to his book.

"Well, you know which room is mine, you can get them anytime," she responded, turning back to the books, and pulling out a gorgeous illustrated copy of Perrault's Fairy Tales. Gripping the book in one hand, and arranging her feet on the sides of the ladder, she slid down expertly, as if sliding down a vertical banister. Darcy saw, but said nothing. She crossed over to one of the bay windows, complete with a cushioned window seat and white lace curtains, the moon rising high in the twilight sky.

Darcy watched her cross the room with a heated gaze, the clean white fabric of her shirt rubbing against the smooth, silky skin of her abdomen, leaving a small slither for him to fix his eyes upon, her hips swinging naturally as she moved, the material of her baggy grey pants clinging in the appropriate sections for his palms to become slightly sweaty. He cursed himself silently; he was _not_ the kind of man to fall for a woman like _her_! She was nothing, of no noble birth or respectable parentage, with no amounts of wealth or etiquette to tempt him, and yet all he could think of was how easily he could rise, meet her in a few strides, and pulled her into his arms for the kind of embrace that she would _never_ forget.

He managed to sit in her presence for a half hour in complete silence, not trusting himself to say anything, or to even look at her. Upon hearing Clarity's cries of 'where _is_ everyone?', they both took it as a sign to leave, picking up their books and slipping out of the library with haste. Loli disappeared far quicker than Darcy, sneaking away with extreme stealth, not even glancing back at him. He stared after her until he could no longer see her lithe figure, sighing.

"He_llo_! Where have you all gone! I'm so _bored_!" he heard Clarity cry, her annoyingly shrill voice getting closer. Darcy winced, and he too disappeared up the stairs. He was no fool.

It was about an hour later that Darcy stepped into the hallway, took a deep breath, and stepped towards Lolita's door. He could hear giggling and talking between what sounded like her and Joan, and let out a small sigh of relief. It would be easier if they weren't alone. He tentatively knocked on the door, and the giggling quietened.

"Come in!" he heard Lolita called, laughter still in her voice. He pushed the door open slowly and carefully, not too far, and bent his head.

"I err… was wondering if I could take a look at the sketches," he said awkwardly. They were both sitting on the bed, Joan lying down with her knee resting on Lolita's lap, and she was rubbing it with some sort of balm.

"Oh, hey Whit, come in!" Joan greeted cheerfully. He glanced at Lolita, who was busy with Joan's knee, and said nothing. He pushed the door open further, and stepped into the room, looking around uncomfortably with hesitation. Lolita's hair had dried, falling over her body in soft spiral curls. She looked stunning. "We were just talking about you. Did you want to hang out for a little while?" she asked, with her usual beauty and friendliness. Darcy liked Joan. She was sweet. Naïve, and probably out to get Cale's fortune, but nice, all the same.

"I – err –" he responded, still feeling incredibly awkward.

"Loli's sketchbooks are over there, at that table," Joan informed him. "Grab them and come sit down," she urged, with a smile. Darcy nervously stepped towards the desk resting against the wall, and picked up about three identical black sketchbooks sitting on the surface. He glanced at the bed with hesitation. Lolita rolled her eyes.

"We don't have cooties," she said pointedly. He tried to hide a red flush rising to his cheeks, and walked to the bed, sitting on the edge precariously, eyes nervously cast downwards. Lolita laughed.

"What's wrong with your knee?" he asked Joan curiously, glancing at Lolita's hands massaging the muscle.

"Old ballet injury," she replied. "It feels a bit sore sometimes, but Loli has magic fingers, if she wasn't so clever she could have been a masseuse," she explained, smiling warmly to her sister.

"The funny thing is, I hate massages myself," she threw in, with a slight grin.

"She does this scalp thing that can make you cry," Joan informed him. "And she's amazing at back massages too; she gets rid of the pain completely. She finds knots in my back that have been there for years!" she continued. "She could give you one, I'd recommend the scalp rub, it always makes me sleep like a baby," she advised him.

"Babies wake up every three hours screaming to be fed, Joan," Lolita reminded her smilingly, rubbing her nimble fingers up and down her calf. Joan rolled her eyes. Darcy adjusted his seating on the bed, so he wasn't so stiff and formal. He watched what Lolita did curiously.

"Did you take classes or something?" he asked.

"Nope. Don't know where I picked it up, I guess I just knew how," she shrugged. She sounded a little bit cold to him, but he ignored it. He glanced down at the sketch books, and opened the first one.

It obviously wasn't the illustrations for the book, but it was fascinating. A busy street in Tokyo, down to the finest detail, done in dark grey and crimson lead. It was stunning. He turned another page, a young Japanese boy fixing his bike on the sidewalk. Then the interior of a bathhouse, steam rising from deep tubs, waterlilies floating over the surface. A girl wearing a full traditional kimono with bright pink hair and spike heels, playing electric guitar on the street. A young Japanese girl about Lolita's age, with shoulder length black hair, and dark eyes, a pleasant smile on her face, wearing the same kind of 'Sweet Lolita' style that the girl sitting before him praised so highly.

The sketches in the first book were filled with Tokyo. Its people, its places, its culture, its tradition. It was amazing. He had no idea that she could draw so well. That _anyone_ could draw so well. They were like black and white photos, sometimes with coloured pencils or watercolours, but it really did look incredibly realistic.

He opened the next book, when he had run out of pages to look at in incredulous wonder. This one had a heavier paper; it was all done in charcoal, pieces of rice paper between each sketch. The first was of a pair of feet shuffling awkwardly wearing converse sneakers, and then a winding vine around an ornate gate, and then of a man with a nice looking face, tapping his lips with a pen and laughing. They had people, and a few pieces of landscape and scenery, mostly charcoal studies for other, complete drawings.

"It's the last sketchbook," she informed him. He glanced up, and noticed her gaze. He looked back down to his lap, and pulled the other book open. In it were drafts for all of the assignments he had given her, pieces for work and such. The most recent sketches were all titled and explained; quotations were under them all to explain what was going on in the picture. The images were amazing.

"What's the book about?" he asked curiously.

"Basically it's about a girl who can't handle the fact that her best friend died," she answered. "It's really good, I enjoyed it," she added. "What did you think of the sketches?" she asked, as he turned back to the book.

"They're really – well, you have a gift," he murmured. She smiled softly.

"Thanks," she replied, before turning back to Joan. "It's good to know they're up to your standard," she added, with the slightest bit of edge.

"She's always been very talented," Joan praised. Lolita rolled her eyes.

"Hardly. Joan's just always been complimentary," she replied, arching a cheeky smile to her stepsister.

"She's modest, too," added Joan, directing her gaze to Darcy.

"I'm a lot of things, apparently," she threw in with monotonic disinterest, as if she were discussing the weather.

"She's funny, if you didn't get that one before," Joan continued, smiling as her sister continued to roll her eyes.

"You really should be in advertising," Lolita commented. "Besides. My brand of humour doesn't amuse him," she added, digging her knuckles deep into the side of Joan's knee.

"And how do you know that?" Darcy asked her simply. She glanced up at him.

"Alright, I'm going to tell you a little story," she declared.

"I'm listening."

"Okay, there's this girl, and she's in an airport, right? She goes up to get some food, because the plane is running late," she began. "So she gets into line, and there's this _really_ tall guy, barking his head off on a mobile phone about private planes and crack whores," she continued, as Darcy shifted uncomfortably. "And he orders a coffee. In English. In a Japanese airport. Then, when the girl tells the server what the guy wanted in Japanese so he could make the order, this guy turns around to her, and yells his posh little head off," she explained, Darcy looking increasingly uncomfortable. "So he insults the kid. And then he storms off when the girl actually uses a _comeback_, something he'd probably never heard directed at him before."

"You know, this isn't actually that funny," Joan commented.

"And a little while later, the guy comes up to the girl again, and insults her shoes. He says all sorts of crap to her, and the girl is sitting there, laughing her head off on the inside, because what _he_ didn't know was she had asked the kid to spit in his coffee, and distracted him so that the kid could do it. She won," she finished, with a sly grin. Darcy stared at her.

"You didn't."

"How do you know?"

"That's not funny."

"I dunno, I think it's a little amusing," she grinned in response, Joan looking curiously between the two.

"You're both acting strange. I'm going to wash some of this balm off, when I get back, you two had better be back to normal," she said sternly, sliding off the bed, and heading into the unsuite bathroom.

"You didn't, did you?" Darcy questioned the moment Joan had left the room. Lolita was grinning like mad, trying to hide laughter. He was desperately hoping that she was joking.

"And why would I tell you?" she asked, through muffled laughter. Darcy shook his head.

"I thought we had an unspoken agreement that what happened in Tokyo stayed in Tokyo," he replied pointedly.

"I wasn't informed of this," she replied, inspecting her nails casually, just to annoy him, he assumed.

"That's why it was unspoken," he insisted with irritation.

"It was certainly fun, an interesting introduction," she laughed, lying back on the bed and staring at the canopy above her. Darcy tingled with the realisation that they were alone, and she was lying back on her bed with him only a few inches away. The uncovered slither of skin on her abdomen grew into a good few inches for him to examine with extreme interest.

"I'm not particularly proud of it, to be perfectly honest," he responded coolly.

"Fine then, we'll forget it ever happened. Happy?" she questioned, sitting up.

"Thrilled," he replied pointedly. He stood up, put her sketchbooks back on the desk, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Loli sighed in relief that he was gone. She stretched out her body like a cat, and ran a hand through her hair in a tired motion.

The door to the bathroom was suddenly pulled open, and then practically slammed shut.

"Lolita Starchild Gardiner – what the _hell_ went on with you and Darcy in Tokyo?"

**A/N: I hope you looked up Alannah Hill, because you're going to need to understand her fashion in the next couple of chapters. Please review! You know how much I love it :D**


	15. Meet Collette

**A/N: Once again, look up Alannah Hill. The dress Loli wears is the 4****th**** picture in the collection on her official website. I started my new school today :D It's awesome. Just thought I'd mention it lol.**

Loli groaned, and rolled over in bed.

"You're overreacting," she informed Joan, who was still looking at her in shock.

"I _heard_ you and Darcy talking – what on earth happened that you two agreed not to bring up again?" she questioned. "Did you sleep with him?" she asked. "Because I love you and everything – but if you _slept_ with your _boss_, Loli, you're in a _lot_ of trouble," she said sternly, her mother-hen voice shining through. "You aren't the kind of girl to just sleep with a guy! Sweetie, _please_ tell me you didn't do it!" she begged.

"I didn't sleep with him! I swear!" she replied honestly, sitting up. "We met in the airport, that story I told was just how we met," she explained. Joan's shoulder's relaxed instantly.

"Thank God," she sighed, breathing a sigh of relief. "Hang on – did you tell the server to spit in his coffee?" she cried, her eyes widening. Loli laughed.

"No, but it was amusing to make him think that I did," she giggled, burying herself in the silky sheets and pillows. Joan looked at her in slight annoyance, before joining her sister's laughter.

"His expression _was_ pretty funny," she admitted, more laughter rising up in her throat at the thought. Soon she was clutching her stomach, shaking with laughter at the thought. She collapsed into the bed with Loli, their giggles and chuckles reverberating around the room.

Joan headed back to her room a little while later, and Loli settled into the large, comfortable bed. It was like sleeping on a cloud. It was the kind of luxury that she simply wasn't used to, coming from a simple background, through a lot of her childhood she spent many nights sleeping in a hostel or caravan park, or cheap hotels, even her own bed wasn't nearly as nice as the one she lay in.

Sleep came quickly.

But unfortunately, so did morning.

"Wake up girl, good heavens! Wake _up_ I say!"

Loli groaned, and rolled over, pulling the pillow over her head.

"WAKE UP!"

"BUGGER OFF!" Loli cried in angry response, somewhere buried beneath an endless amount of pillows and sheets.

"Now zat eez just _rude_," was the pointed response. A pointed response with a heavy French accent.

"Oh no – _too _early!" she snapped, sitting up, glaring at the figure standing by her bed.

She was a gorgeous example of a woman. Tall and stately, wearing a waist high pencil skirt suit in black with a white blouse and a vibrant pink silk cravat, waves of black hair with a large streak of grey running through it. She had dark eyes and pale, chocolate coloured skin, she looked to be in her mid forties with only a few lines marking her face. She was a stunning, stick thin, gorgeous woman.

And she was glaring down at Loli with fire in her eyes.

"I can zee what you said about zee eyez, Clarité" the woman said in her heavy French accented voice, the Paris region, Loli guessed. "Stunning. Probably one of 'er best features," she added, glancing over to Clarity, who was standing at the foot of the bed, fully dressed and made up for the day. Joan was sitting on the corner of the bed, fiddling with her camera. "And zat hair! And the skin! Darling, get out of bed immediately. Every second 'ou sit here is a second zat we will lose, you're going to be a star!" she insisted, wrapping a bony hand around Loli's wrist and tugging, _hard_.

"_Ouch!_ _Que fais-tu –_" she began, falling to the floor.

"Get up!" the woman demanded. Loli angrily rose to her feet, about to give the woman a piece of her mind, before she began again. "My, what a figure! Zose legs go on forever!" she cried, looking her up and down. She reached for her arms, and held them out, before spinning her. Loli resisted, but the woman was strong, and she was still half asleep. "But why such dreary clothes? _Vous devriez poursuirve votre tailleur en justice_!"

"_Fiche moi le paix!_" Loli responded, pulling away.

"Such _language_, my dear!" the woman commented, tutting and shaking her head. "You're right Clarité, the only thing to dress 'er in is Alannah Hill. Maybe some Betsey Johnson, but forget about zee Vera Wang – zis girl can do _so_ much more," she said, turning back to Clarity, who nodded, a cool, smug smile on her lips as she watched Loli's distress. She stood before them wearing nothing but the plain white tee shirt she had worn the night before and a pair of pink cupcake boylegs, her long hair falling everywhere.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" she demanded.

"She 'as a _poitrine_. Clarity, zis _fillette_ is as slim as a twig and she 'as breasts," she stated with a mixture of jealously and amazement.

"I'm _so_ glad I found her Collette, she's perfect," Clarity replied, her smug grin growing.

"Take off zee shirt darling, I need to see all of you," the woman, Collette, demanded. Loli's jaw dropped.

"No. Fucking. Way."

"Take eet off, or I'll take eet off for you," Collette said dangerously.

"I doubt it. You see, _you're_ wearing heels, _I'm_ not," she replied pointedly, crossing her arms.

"And what does _zat_ mean, other zan zee fact zat I'm about a foot taller zan you?" Collette questioned, with equal coolness to her tone.

"That I can run."

"_Qu'est-ce que_?"

But by the time they had realised what she was saying, Loli was out of the door, and pulling open the first one that she found, quickly closing it and leaning against the surface in case they tried to come in.

"What on _earth_ are you doing?"

She opened her eyes, which had been squeezed shut. She groaned in annoyance.

"They want to take my shirt off," she said simply, sliding down to the ground, still leaning against the door. Darcy was sitting on the unmade bed, fully dressed in black slacks and a white Oxford shirt, reading a book, and sipping coffee, raising an eyebrow.

"Right. Well, I'm not really good at that whole 'dream reading' thing, but I would guess that _you_ haven't gotten any in quite a while," he replied pointedly, turning a page. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Pot calling the kettle black?"

Her simple response earned her a quiet glare.

"Besides, it's not a dream, there's some crazy French lady in there trying to take my shirt off so she can inspect me or something like that," she explained, pushing against the door when they started to bang against it on the other side.

"Collette?" questioned Darcy, raising his eyebrows once again. She nodded, not wanting to make a sound. He winced. "Hide under the bed," he advised. She nodded, and moved to the bed, crouching down and disappearing beneath it silently.

"_Fitz_, dear?" he heard the familiar French accent question. "Did a _fillette_ come in 'ere, gorgeous red 'air, blue eyes?" she asked.

"Sorry, I don't sleep with children," he called out in response. "Try looking for Lolita downstairs, she might be in the library," he added.

"Lolita? 'Er name eez Lolita?" he heard Collette ask.

"Lolita Grace Starchild, to be precise," Clarity responded.

"Did 'er parents _read_ zee book?"

"Apparently she chose it when she was eight."

"Did _she_ read zee book?"

"Could you please not convene outside my bedroom? It's an awful racket!" Darcy called out.

"She eez in zere, eezn't she!" Collette cried suddenly.

"No! She's not!" Darcy responded quickly.

Too quickly.

She pushed the door open, stepping into the room, and fixing her gaze upon him.

"Fitzwhitlam! You're stunning!" she cried, raising her hand to cover her mouth, as if in shock. He rolled his eyes.

"Hello, Collette," he greeted morosely, turning back to his book.

"Tell me where she eez, darling," Collette cooed, her dark eyes flashing.

"Not a clue," he replied, turning a page for effect. Clarity walked into the room, her eyes seeking out the annoying redhead he was so fond of.

"You wouldn't 'ave 'er hiding in your _bed_, now would you?" she questioned, raising one eyebrow expertly, and crossing her arms. Behind her, Clarity looked completely aghast.

"Isn't that illegal?" he responded, mirroring her movements. She narrowed her gaze.

"Fine zen. I shall 'ave to find 'er myself," she said coolly, stepping closer, and looking around with keen eyes. There really wasn't anywhere _to_ hide. She narrowed the eyes in the direction of the bed, and headed over there, her pace quick and forceful. She ducked to the ground, and pulled the sheet up quickly.

"No! Go away! I like my shirt _on_!" cried Loli in anger. She jumped out from beneath the bed and backed towards the wall, holding her hands out, crossing two fingers together. Darcy almost laughed; she was declaring Collette as a witch.

"I just want to see what your shape eez!" Collette insisted.

"Round! They're tits for goodness sake, how much variation can you _get_?" she questioned angrily, backing away further as Collette came closer.

"You would be _quite_ surprised," Collette countered. "And don't be so crass. You need to work on your respect to your elders, _dear_," she snapped.

"I'm only polite when I'm wearing lace, you crazy she-devil," she snapped in retort.

"Lolita, just take your shirt of for _goodness_ take, do as Collette tells you!" snapped Clarity, stepping towards the trapped girl.

"Hello! Has _anyone_ noticed the fact that my _boss_ is sitting right over there, and you're asking me to strip in front of him? Not a _chance_!" she cried angrily.

"Get out of here, all of you," Darcy snapped in irritation. Collette stopped stepping towards Loli, and Clarity looked up. He did have a certain presence about him, a certain sense of command. When he said things, they were done. Clarity and Collette both left in a hurry, not wanting to get on his bad side. Loli stepped out with hesitation.

"Wow. You got rid of them. You're like Chuck Norris," she commented. He rolled his eyes.

"Well I _can _slam revolving doors and win a game of connect four in only three moves," he replied, turning back to his book. "Get out of here before they come back, Collette frightens me," he ordered.

"Thanks for your kind of crappy job of hiding me," she added, heading over to the door. "I think I'm going to wear a steel bra with flamethrowers or something installed," she said thoughtfully, slipping out of the room, and closing the door.

Darcy threw his head back, and breathed a sigh of relief.

_She was only wearing briefs_.

The image of her long, uncovered legs was just too much. He couldn't have her in his room for any longer.

Loli looked up and down the hall, and when she had determined that neither Collette nor Clarity were lurking behind potted plants, she slipped into her room. She looked around the perimeter, only Joan sat on the bed, still fiddling with her camera.

"Where are they?" she hissed, closing the door behind her quickly and looking around, still suspicious.

"Getting coffee and Collette's things," Joan answered, cleaning one of the lenses. Loli breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good. I'm getting dressed before they can come and strip me," she said decidedly, pulling the dressing cabinet open. She selected a pair of ripped jeans, and a baggy, oversized Hamtaro shirt. She glanced out the window, and sighed. It was miserable weather, and she could feel the cold coming in already. She pulled out a light pink beanie, complete with cat ears on the top, and shoved it on her head, and searched for shoes, deciding on a pair of pink pinstriped converse sneakers.

"Very cute," Joan commented, with a slight grin. Loli rolled her eyes.

"I'm moving to Paris. If they come up here, tell them that I didn't leave a forwarding address," she informed her, and made a start to move to the door, just as it opened.

"What on _earth_ are you _wearing_?" Collette practically screamed, when she caught site of Loli. She looked down, and then back up at the tall, glamorous woman before her.

"Clothes," she replied, with a shrug. Collette firmly shook her head.

"No! Zose are – _rags_!" she cried, pushing forwards. Clarity followed, one of the many staff on the Bingley estate pulling what looked like a very large suitcase behind them. He dragged the case into the middle of the room, and then left, closing the door behind him. "Now take zose tings off – zee boy will be back in a minute wit some _real _clothes, and we need to get you measured up," she said, stepping towards the case.

First, she undid some metal clasps, and then she pushed it open, it turned out to be some sort of travel boutique, it had draws and mirrors and had clothing hanging and shoes sitting, everything you needed.

"Bugger off," snapped Loli, stepping away.

"_Honestly_ Lolita, you're being unreasonable, I expected more from one of my dolls," Clarity said pointedly.

"Loli, please? Just do as they say?" Joan begged. Loli glanced over at her, and signed in resignation. Joan's eyes always killed her.

"Fine then," she muttered, pulling off the beanie, and then _plonking_ down on the floor, and pulling off her shoes.

"Come on, out of zee jeans," Collette ordered, staring in distaste at the ripped pair of pants Loli wore. "Disgusting tings, jeans. Can't stand zem," she commented, shaking her head, before she began rifling around in one of the draws, pulling out a coiled measuring tape.

Loli reluctantly pulled off the jeans, revealing once again her cupcake boylegs. After another pointed glance from Collette, she took off her shirt, reduced down to nothing but her knickers and a plain white bra.

"You wear _zose_ under your _clothes_?" Collette exclaimed. "'Onestly, what is _wrong_ with you, my dear?" she questioned, immediately stepping forwards. "'ave you no _pride_ in your appearance?" she asked.

"Well it's not like anyone is going to see them!" she insisted. Collette raised her eyebrow as she wrapped the measuring tape around her waist.

"Don't 'ave a boyfriend?" she asked, in supposed pity. "Or girlfriend?"

"I don't have either, and it has nothing to do with you," she replied pointedly.

"Ooh, I'm sensing a recent break up," Collette said with glee. Loli rolled her eyes. "Where did you meet zhim?" she asked, moving the tape up under Loli's bust.

"Art school," she answered shortly.

"Was he in your class zen?" she asked, wrapping the tape around Loli's chest.

"In a manner of speaking," she replied carefully. Collette's eyes widened.

"Oh dearie, was he your _professor_?" she questioned. Loli frowned in irritation.

"It has _nothing_ to do with you," she snapped. Collette smirked.

"'ow much older? Ten years? Fifteen?"

"Like I said, nothing to do with you," she said shortly. "Hurry up, you've got your hands on my boobs and I'm not really quite fond of that feeling," she snapped.

"Fine zen," Collette replied, but a smirk was still playing on her painted lips. "But you need decent lingerie, not _zis_," she commented, indicating the bra and panties.

"Whatever."

"She certainly has a bit of _attitude_, zis girl," Collette commented to Clarity.

"Infuriatingly so, but I'm sure she'll settle down," the woman responded, inspecting her manicured nails as she sat on the settee by the end of the bed. Collette turned to Loli.

"Clarité and I 'ave decided zat choo will dress almost exclusively in Alannah Hill. She told me of your fondness for ribbons et lace, so zis shall do quite nicely," she informed her. "Brush your 'air, for goodness sakes, we can't style eet if eet's in knots and tangles," she snapped, as Loli stepped away.

"Fine, but tell me, _de quoi est mort votre dernier escalve_?" she questioned. Collette glanced at her, and a small smile graced her lips.

"She refused to do as I said, zat's what," she replied, before stepping back to the travelling closet.

It took about a half hour for Loli's hair to be done, it fell in soft, silky waves that curled into spirals at the end, parted to give her a large side fringe that framed her face well. It took a good hour for her makeup, Collette was very meticulous when it came to applying the lipstick and the foundation, and the eyes took a lifetime.

By that stage, Loli's irritation levels were up to an all time high. She was pissed beyond belief; it wasn't even fun to be a dolly because they hadn't gotten to the stage of dressing her up yet.

"Zere! Perfect," Collette said finally, she and Clarity stepping back. Loli breathed a sigh of relief; they were finally finished poking and prodding her with brushes and sponges. "_Well_? Aren't you going to look at yourself een the mirror?" she questioned incredulously.

"Do I have to?" Loli asked, wincing at the thought. Collette frowned, gripping the spinning office chair that she had been sitting in, and spun her around to face the mirror.

She was still very pale, paler than normal, even, with faintly rouged cheeks in a sort of reddish-gold shade, like autumn leaves. Her hair looked very fair against her complexion, the waves soft and very classical. Her lips were very, _very_ red, startlingly red, and glossy, her eyelids painted with some sort of dark burgundy shade, making the blue stand out just as much as her too-red lips, framed by long, coal-black lashes. Her plain white bra and cupcake shorts looked so out of place with her face, painted up so beautifully.

"_This_ took an hour and a half?" she questioned doubtfully. "I dunno, it seems like a long time," she commented.

"You can't really tell 'ow good eet looks – not with zose daggy underwears on," snapped Collette. "I tink we might have something, we 'ad to ask your sister for your size – I hope she was right," she commented, stepping towards a metal transportable clothes hanger, stuffed with all sorts of clothes that Loli hadn't a chance to examine. Loli glanced back at the mirror, and pulled a face. In the reflection, she could see Clarity roll her eyes.

"You look amazing, Loli," Joan said from the bed. She had been sitting silently for most of the time, smiling whenever she saw her little sister.

"I feel so violated," Loli whined. Joan smiled, and rolled her eyes, turning back to her camera. She had cleaned the room up, and set up some of her lights and affects to take some preliminary shots, and was currently trying to decide which lenses she would need.

"_This_ should be perfect!" Clarity declared from the travelling line of clothing.

"Ah, you are so _true_! C'est magnifique!" Collette confirmed. "I 'ave chosen a few outfits, shall we play dress up?" she suggested, a smile clearly in her voice.

"Oh, do lets," Clarity replied, stepping out of the array of clothes. "Lolita, put this on, please," she said, holding out a hanger. On it was a brassiere and pair of underwear, very ornate, and _completely_ over the top. They set was made out of white lace, with a few ruby-red satin ribbons, some tied up as bows, some threaded into the lace. They were very cute.

"Fine, but in the _bathroom_, by _myself_," she snapped, opening the door to the unsuite, and slipping in. "And you aren't taking photos of my in just the knickers!" she cried out.

After she had tried them on, she spun around in the bathroom mirror to examine herself. She really did like them. They were very pretty. And judging by the label on them – (D&G, no less) they were very expensive. She wondered if she got to keep them. But she doubted it.

She stepped out of the bathroom with hesitation.

"Stunning. Simply stunning."

Collette's affirmative response allowed Loli to breathe a sigh of relief. She didn't want to be criticized in her knickers, after all.

"Have you been working out?" Joan asked curiously, looking up at her stepsister.

"Meh. I got Wii fit. I'm the yoga queen," she responded with a shrug. "Can I put some clothes on now?" she asked Clarity nervously, who was grinning.

"Of course, Lolita, dearest," she said with false affection and sincerity. "I want you to try this on, I think it'll look very pretty," she said, indicating a dress and pair of stockings that had been set out on the bed. Loli examined the stockings with hesitation, before pulling them on. They were white, with transparent squares, to let the shade of her skin shine through. They were actually quite nice. Then she put on the dress, and glanced in one of the many full length mirrors around the room.

It was a sort of pinky-peach colour, with a satin under layer and a then a very soft chiffon over the top and fairly clingy, especially around her waist, it had some vertical brocade over the chest and a white rounded collar, as well as white cuffs on the sleaves, which reached down to her elbow, the gauzy layer of chiffon puffing up slightly. The dress was quite short, probably a good ten inches or something ridiculous away from her knees. She put on a pair of matching gloves, and was about to look around in hesitation, questioning what to do, when Clarity and Collette both descended.

"The collar is a bit twisted, I think the neckline needs to come in," Clarity commented.

"Zee waist could be a bit tighter, and zee hem needs to be taken een, she's not tall enough," Collette added.

"She needs headwear; I'm thinking a cream bow?"

"Sounds good, but what about zee shoes?"

"They'll need to be in the peach, or there'll be too much cream."

"Do we have anyting in zee peach?"

"I think we have a pair of chunky peep-toes."

"Perfect. Are you tinking pearlz?"

"Everywhere we can put them."

"Joan… help me!" Loli squealed, her sister chuckling slightly in amusement.

"Quiet, and stop breathing so much," Clarity snapped. "Breathing makes you look fat. You do _not_ want to be fat," she said sternly. Loli only rolled her eyes.

"This isn't Lolita," she said morosely to Joan, who shrugged.

"Not yet, perhaps," she replied, snapping up a picture with a laugh.

**A/N: Yeah, so here's the translation of what is said between Loli and Collette:**

*** what are you doing?**

**** you should sue your tailor**

***** fuck you.**

****** what?**

******* what did your last slave die of?**

**Please review!!!**


	16. Queen of silent suffocation

**A/N: Bah. School. I love my new school, but I haven't had much time lately… So I'm updating every second day, it means that there won't be huge long gaps between chapters, because I'll have time to write them.**

After what felt like the millionth flash of the camera sounded, Loli breathed out in relief, sitting heavily down on the floor with her legs sprawled out.

"Alright, there are only so many photos you can take of a kid playing with a dollhouse," she tried to reason, glaring up at Clarity.

"Dolls don't talk, they sit and look pretty," she retorted pointedly. Joan lowered her camera, and looked over at the laptop it was connected to, the picture she had just taken appearing on the screen. Clarity too turned towards the laptop, and, tapping her lips, she declared it a wrap.

"Thank _God_!" Loli cried, jumping up immediately, and pulling off the shoes.

"It's a wrap for that _outfit_, not for _you_," she snapped. "Besides, I'm having a friend in the area visit today, and _you_ have to be there," she informed her, passing over to the clothing rack, where Collette sat, red framed reading glasses perched on her nose as she altered pieces for her to wear, occasionally dropping in bits of advice and cooing noises.

"What the hell? I have work I need to do too you know, I have a whole pile of illustrations I need to get done!" she insisted with irritation. Clarity turned to glare at her momentarily, cream silk swishing around her knees.

"For now, you belong to me, not Mister Darcy," she said coolly. Loli scowled. Clarity held her eye contact for a moment, a thoughtful expression lingering on her face. "Sit down, Lolita," she said suddenly, gesturing towards one of the chaise lounges in the corner.

"What?"

"Sit _down_, Lolita," she ordered sharply. Loli rolled her eyes angrily, and then threw herself down on the lounge very un-gracefully, crossing her arms and making a loud _huff_ of disagreement. "Now, it's come to my attention that you might have a little _crush_ on _my_ dear Fitz," she began.

"What the hell? He's my boss!" Loli cried instantly, her eyes widening. "No way. Not a _chance_ that I would _ever_ be interested in _that_ tosspot," she snapped, shaking her head. Clarity smiled in the manner she had that was akin to a large Cheshire cat, smirking at it's helpless pray.

"Very good. Because Fitz is not the kind of man that a young girl like you should be involved with," she said in a motherly tone. "Have you noticed that sort of dangerous, commanding manner he has about him?" she asked, as Loli nodded, frowning slightly. "Well, Fitz isn't the kind of man to accept 'no' for an answer. He's _always_ in control of _every_ situation, and I think you should simply be a little careful around him," she advised. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, with a bit of irritation seeping into her tones. She didn't have to ask, she knew the answer. The woman was only collecting her as a dolly to keep her close, so she could keep an eye on her. And now she realised why.

Because in some sort of twisted, crazy, ridiculous world, she _actually_ thought that _Loli_ wanted to be with _Darcy_.

She wanted to laugh. The concept was so ridiculous! She hated him!

"Why, simply to protect you, Lolita dearest!" she cried, placing a supposedly soothing hand upon her shoulder. "He's not a man to be trifled with, he knows what he wants, and he gets it. All I'm saying is be careful," she added sternly.

"But that would mean that McPosh liked _me_, and he _certainly_ doesn't," Loli snapped. Clarity's cool smirk returned.

"Well, let's just be careful, and see if we can set you up with a nice young footballer, hmm?" she suggested, getting up and turning to Collette, so that she didn't see Loli's cringe. "Now, I think it's time for lunch, we'll dine with the men today, I think," she said, stepping over to the wall, on which sat several freshly cleaned golden bells, with little lettering beneath all of them. She rung one, and then turned back to Collette, picking through the clothing to find appropriate garments for Loli to model.

"Can I get undressed now?" she asked, but was greeted with a firm _'no_' from both Collette and Clarity.

"Later. We'll have lunch first, and then Joan and I shall find some places to set up for the next outfit," Clarity announced. "Collette will do some more fitting whilst you wait," she added.

A few moments later, a young girl had opened the bedroom door, and stood, head bowed, wearing the full traditional maid's uniform.

"Has lunch been prepared?" Clarity demanded instantly. The maid nodded.

"Yes, Miss Bingley," she replied clearly, but softly.

"Good. Inform the gentlemen that we shall be dining in about five minutes, in the West luncheon parlour," she said shortly. "Make sure to set a place for _all_ guests too," she added. The maid nodded, made a small curtsy, and bustled from the room, looking absolutely terrified.

"Help me," Loli squeaked to Joan, looking up at her pleadingly. But Joan was sitting at the computer, happily going through pictures.

"Come and have a look," she urged her sister. Loli groaned, and dragged her feet over to sit on Joan's lap, and stare at the computer screen. She rubbed her arms; it was getting pretty cold due to the pouring rain and draughty rooms.

Joan put a slideshow on, the pictures filling the screen. They were all of the first outfit Loli had put on, and was still wearing, pictures of her sitting at the writing desk, photos of her playing with her plushie toys on the bed, photos of her writing with coloured chalk on pieces of paper, photos of her playing with dolls and blocks and tiny plastic horses, in all of them she looked about fourteen years old in one way, and twenty-one in another.

"Well _now_ I'm certainly going to live up to my name," she said sarcastically. Joan rolled her eyes.

"You look gorgeous," she replied, kissing her sister on the cheek. "It's so much fun taking photos of you," she grinned. Loli smiled softly.

Now it was worth it, she guessed.

"Can I get changed for lunch, or do I have to wear this?" she asked, glancing down at her outfit.

"That's fine," Clarity replied shortly. "Come along then, all of you," she ordered, Loli sliding off Joan's lap, and reluctantly leaving the room.

"What did you _do_ to the poor thing?" was Cale's immediate cry, the moment that they practically dragged Loli into the parlour.

"Nothing, we just groomed her a little," Clarity snapped.

"What, to be a 1930s child courtesan?" he questioned sarcastically.

"_Caleb_, ooh, _mon garçon_!" squealed Collette suddenly, rushing forth.

"Oh _shit_," Cale muttered, trying to dodge the woman, but she pulled him quickly into her arms, his head pressed against her bosom.

"Oh 'ou are so _beautiful_, my little boyz!" she cried happily, petting his hair.

Loli glanced around the room. It was a cute little thing, all done in powder blue and dark mahogany, an attractive long wooden table in the centre of the room, a fireplace, and several chaise lounges. Darcy sat at the table, a newspaper spread out before him, staring at Loli in some sort of questioning curiosity.

"They made me play with dolls whilst they took incriminating photos of me," she said miserably, sitting down at the table.

"Well at least they can't look anymore ridiculous than you look right now," he commented, turning back to his newspaper. Loli scowled, and stuck her tongue out at him. "And _that_ is very mature," he added pointedly, glancing at her momentarily behind a dark fringe.

"Have you taken your happy pills today?" she questioned with sarcastic coolness.

"No, just the Vicodin so that I could put up with my annoying employee," he retorted.

"Do us all a favour, and overdose."

"Would if I could, but then I'd have to leave everything to my nephew, and I decided that he can't inherit anything over a billion pounds until he has his first tooth," he responded in monotone. "I'm a traditionalist," he added with sarcastic humour.

"I can think of a few other words to describe you that aren't as flamboyant," she informed him coolly.

"I hope 'your boss' will come into it," he replied, turning a page. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"_Fitzwhitlam_, tell me _daaaaarling_, how eez little Callum? And darling Gigi?" Collette questioned, taking a seat on one side of Darcy, as Clarity took the other.

"They're both fine, thank you," Darcy replied coolly, edging away from Collette slightly, Clarity beaming as he moved nearer, taking what he thought was the lesser of two evils.

"And what do you tink of our new _poupée_?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. Darcy glanced over at Loli momentarily.

"Sometimes practising silence really is the best idea, Collette," he replied, turning back to his paper, as Collette smacked him lightly on the arm.

"_Non_, darling, tell me what you tink, I demand so," she said sternly. Darcy sighed, and rolled his eyes.

"She looks like a porcelain doll, the colour works, but you've got to teach her how to pout, or the red lips are wasted," he began. "Always make sure she's wearing at least _something_ in either pink or blue, because they both bring the eyes out. "If you're going to continue with that dress, replace the bow with some rosettes in red, peach, pink and cream. Or try taking some photos the North-East rose garden, that way you can keep the bow," he continued. "And for goodness sakes – it's freezing today and she's cold, give her a cardigan or something, and her hair will get frizzy if you don't keep straightening it because of the rain," he finished.

"I didn't know you were gay."

Darcy sent an annoyed glance back to Loli.

"I'm not _gay_, I own a design company for goodness sakes; don't you think that I could have picked a few things up?" he questioned sarcastically.

"Sure. If you were gay," she replied, shrugging.

"I'm _not_ gay," he replied pointedly, his glare dark and dangerous. Loli turned away. He kind of frightened her, just a little. She thought about what Clarity had said. Maybe she _should_ be careful, not that he might start liking her, because that was obviously _not_ going to happen, but maybe she shouldn't continue to make him angry. It couldn't end prettily.

"You 'ave some good points, Fitzwhitlam, _dear_," Collette said thoughtfully.

"It's Whit, Collette," he replied, turning back to his newspaper.

"Or lack thereof," Loli muttered, with a smirk. She stifled laughter as Darcy sent her another short, angry glare.

Okay, so maybe a _little_ more fun couldn't hurt anyone.

**A/N: You know how much I luuuuuuurve reviews :D**


	17. Of bathtubs, bubbles, and strawberries

**A/N: Mwahahaha. I love Collette. And strawberries dipped in yogurt.**

"Wake _up_, fillette!"

Loli groaned, and rolled over.

"Not _this_ again…" she moaned, digging her face into the soft silky pillow.

"_Lolita_, I 'ave _told_ you to get up already!" Collette cried with anger, whacking her purse against the lump in the covers that was Loli's form.

"Hasn't karma struck you down yet?" Loli questioned through one blurry eye, staring up at the form that stood by her bed in the early morning light. "What about that heathen God that you worship, Chanel, wasn't it? How come she didn't smite you into ash yet? I _like_ to sleep. You're messing that up," she said in annoyance.

"A bath 'as been run for 'ou, breakfast is zerved, et we need to begin early!" Collette cried dramatically, pulling on the covers of the bed. Loli groaned, and curled up into a tiny ball to regain any warmth she previously had.

"Where's your little minion?" she asked, one of her eyes creeping open and inspecting the room, finding it empty, but for Collette and Joan, the latter of whom was once again setting up her equipment.

"Rise and shine, Loli!" Joan greeted cheerfully. Joan was always painfully jovial in the mornings. Loli either woke up very early, and went for a walk or a jog, or very late, in a sort of comatose manner. Collette was destroying the latter.

"Clarité never wakes up before zee 'our of seven-thirty," Collette informed her pointedly. "Eet eez just past _sept_ now, so _eento_ zee bath wit 'ouu!" she cried, tugging on one of her ankles with force.

Loli landed on the ground with an angry cry, red hair spilling everywhere.

"Yeah, well _I_ never wake up before seven! So bugger off!" she cried in annoyance. Collette stood tall before her, wearing waist high black pinstriped pants, a white blouse and pinstriped jacket to match the pants, gloriously tall lace up Christian Louboutin pumps peeking out beneath the hem.

"Ring for zee maid," Collette ordered Joan. Loli glared at Collette.

"Seriously, this doll thing isn't that cute anymore," she muttered disdainfully. "I mean, I didn't even get to keep that dress I wore yesterday!" she said in annoyance.

"Zat eez because eet wasn't made for you. Alannah waz very generous, and 'as contributed a range of garments, et _yees_, you get to keep zese," she informed her snappishly.

"Why the hell would she do that?" Loli questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Advertizing, Lolita, advertising," she replied pointedly, pulling her up to her unsteady feet. "Now. Zee bath," she said sternly.

"Wait! At least let me get my music," Loli snapped, stumbling over to the dresser, on which sat her ipod and cute little frog-design dock, picking them up, and allowing Collette to poke her into the bathroom. "Okay, okay! I'm going!" she snapped, stepping into the threshold. There was indeed, a full bath drawn, complete with foamy white bubbles.

"Strip! You cannot bath in your pyjamaz!" cried Collette, tugging at Loli's shirt.

"You're _far_ too eager for this, you know," she said pointedly, dodging Collette's bony arms. She put down the dock, and stepped back again.

"Come on zen fille, 'urry up! We 'aven't al dayz!" she snapped, pulling her arms up immediately, and practically ripping her pink cami up and over her arms.

"Hang on – that's just rude!" Loli cried, instantly using her arms to maintain modestly. She turned around quickly, facing the bath. "Leave me alone!" she said in annoyance.

Collette decked her, leaving her standing completely naked in the middle of the bathroom, hands desperately trying to cover pieces of her anatomy that she did _not_ want to be revealed to the whole world.

"Now get in zee bath, or ou'll _freeze_ to death, fillette," she ordered. Loli stepped into the spa bath quickly, it was very large and quite deep, about the size of a wading pool. She felt Collette use a comb to brush her hair up into a very quick, but seemingly insanely complicated sort of French-bun-twisty-thing, so that her still glossy curls wouldn't get damp until they were ready to wash it. Loli sunk into the water; it was hot and smelled of pretty, flowery things, steam rising up warmly.

"Oh… this is _nice…_" she sighed happily, leaning back, and resting against the side of the bath, closing her eyes.

"Scrub up, zee maid shall be 'ere in a moment weet your breakfast," Collette informed her, before strutting out of the bathroom.

Loli sunk deeper into the water, and gave another calm sigh. The water was so soothing. She heard a knock at the door, and gave a happy hum as a response. It was pushed open slowly, the same maid that Clarity had frightened earlier ducking her head in.

"Miss Gardiner, I have your breakfast," she said in a shaky voice.

"Oh hey! Come in, please," Loli greeted, opening her eyes, and turning to face the maid. She wore the traditional uniform again, and looked a fair bit terrified. She was actually kind of pretty, her hair was a sort of mousy brown, but she had nice features, and warm amber eyes like honey.

She bustled in, carrying a tray carefully, set out in probably the most beautiful way a breakfast tray _could_ be set out, and placed it down on the large tiled bench which surrounded the spa, probably put in just for that usage. She took a handtowel and wrapped it over one arm, trying not to look at Loli, probably in fear of her insults.

"Oh, I'm actually going to eat in the _bath_?" Loli questioned excitedly, as the maid pulled out some sort of long contraption that she placed across the bath carefully; it was like some sort of long bench. She started to set the meal out, it had things like fresh fruit, yogurt, cereal, toast, eggs, a cup of tea, a glass of orange juice, and – she assumed this was Joan's doing – a shot of espresso.

"Yes ma'am, would you be requiring anything else?" she questioned dutifully, making a small curtsey.

"Umm… well, for starters, what's your name?" she asked. The maid blushed slightly pink.

"Madison, miss," she replied shortly. Loli smiled.

"My mum's name is Madison," she grinned. Madison smiled briefly. "I'm Loli, have you been working here long?" she asked curiously. Madison shook her head.

"Only a little while, miss," she answered.

"What do you think?" she asked, arching a grin. Madison looked around the room wistfully, and then back to Loli, envy clear in her eyes. She supposed it must have looked like the life; she was lounging around in a glorious spa bath being served a gourmet breakfast before she would be dressed up in expensive clothing all day, having photos taken of her.

"It's a nice, miss," she replied. "Do you need anything else?" she asked.

"Umm… well, could you plug my ipod dock in and turn it on?" she asked hopefully. Madison smiled.

"Of course, miss," she responded, immediately plugging the frog in, and switching on the ipod. Regina Spektor immediately began to play softly in the background.

"Thanks. Were you hungry? You could join me, if you wanted," Loli offered. Madison blushed.

"I – I had best get back to the kitchens," she muttered, her blush growing stronger. "Good day, miss," she curtseyed, leaving the hand towel on the tray so she could dry her hands before eating. Loli smiled, and sighed as she left.

She patted her hands lightly with the hand towel, drying them off before she sipped the orange juice, and picked up a large, fresh strawberry, biting into it with glee. She loved strawberries.

She leant her head back and sighed. She could tolerate being a doll, if she got to spend her mornings in such a manner.

And then…

The door opened.

And _not_ the door to _her_ room, but the other, unopened door, the one that she assumed was a linen closet.

It opened, and in stepped a scruffy, I-just-woke-up-and-don't-I-look-adorable Darcy, wearing _no shirt_, but a pair of loose hanging, dark blue pinstriped pyjama pants, the waistband of his Calvin Kline underwear visible around his slender but still _very_ nice hips.

He was rubbing his eyes, trying to be rid of sleep from them, his hair sticking out in a funny manner, which was so devilishly attractive that it was just ridiculous.

He had a _very_ nice chest.

And _very_ nice arms.

"Oh."

His simple greeting was short and blunt, and slipped form his lips the moment that he had properly opened his scrunched up eyes, and centred them on her.

She suddenly recalled that she wasn't wearing any clothes, and was sitting in a bathtub, dipping strawberries into yogurt. She splashed around a bit, pulling bubbles towards her, making some sort of wall of white foam to hide herself with. Her face went bright red. The use of the wall was probably not to shield herself from _him_, when she thought about it, but rather to hide _his_ amazingly well-defined body from _her_ wide eyes.

"Oh. Fuck. Shit. I – err – I didn't know you –" he stammered, he too realising the fact that she was naked, and dipping fruit into yogurt. Despite the fact that she was protected by bubbles, and that he had probably seen more of her body in one of her work outfits, it was still a bit of an embarrassing situation to be caught in.

"I – err – umm –" she stammered weakly, before pinching herself underneath the water, desperately trying to avert her eyes from him. She cleared her throat, and started again. "You can shave if you want, but I swear to God, if you need to pee, I'm going underwater," she managed to get out, pulling more bubbles towards her.

"You're here," he stated. "In the bath. Eating breakfast."

"Wow, how many points did you just earn? Fifty? That's fifty points for Captain Obvious!" she responded sarcastically, trying not to sound squeaky, and wondering why she wasn't completely freaked out by all of the things he was reminding her of. "Some people eat breakfast at Tiffany's. Me? I'm different," she added, a playful grin able to briefly shadow over her face, before it turned red once more with mortification.

"You're eating breakfast… in the bath, with no clothes on, and I – I'm –" he began, closing his eyes, and rubbing his temples.

"My boss?" she offered sheepishly. He opened his eyes, and glared at her.

"I was about to say 'not wearing a shirt', or possibly 'extremely uncomfortable', but _yes_, that'll do," he snapped. "Oh my God – this is… so completely –"

"Want a strawberry?"

"_What_?" he questioned, glancing at her once more.

"Well, I figured that if we're both in here, and one of us is naked, we might as well eat breakfast," she shrugged, but the effect was kind of lost in the bath. Inwardly, she was hitting herself over the head with a large, whimsical hammer for being so stupid to suggest such a thing. "And this water has some sort of bath-oil-liquid-milk-stuff added to it, so you can't actually see through it," she added, indicating the milky-pink colour of the bathwater. She didn't know why it was so, but it smelt _divine_.

Once again, she hit herself with the mind-hammer.

"You can have my tea, too, if you want," she offered sheepishly. "I mean, I _love_ tea, but that espresso and I are about to enter a very serious relationship, and I don't want to cause jealously between the breakfast beverages," she explained.

She hadn't expected Darcy to take her up on her offer.

She had expected him to leave, and then feel guilty, because she had been all 'I'm okay with this, I'm being reasonable, no screaming, but franticly building walls of bubbles', and _he_ had been the one to interrupt her breakfast.

She had desired the upper hand.

And as she hadn't expected him to stay, she _definitely_ had not expected him to take a seat on the tiled bench where her ipod dock was sitting, back against the wall, and leaning over, taking the bowl of strawberries from the tray.

"Hey! They were _my_ strawberries!" she cried in annoyance.

Why wasn't she screaming at him?

Why wasn't she kicking him out?

Why wasn't she exploding from the charged up sexual tension that she was pretending wasn't hanging around her head like a cloud of poisonous fumes?

"Too bad. Mine now," he replied simply, popping one into his mouth. She scowled.

"But I _love_ strawberries!" she objected sharply.

"Well so do I, and I'm _your_ boss, so I get the strawberry privileges," he responded, taking a bite into another.

"Well at least give _me_ some!" she protested. He rolled his eyes, and passed the bowl back to her for a moment. She took a handful, and put them on the tray, before sipping the shot of espresso, taking in the caffeine in small doses. He once more leant over, this time taking her orange juice. "I've already sipped that – you might get my cooties," she informed him pointedly. He shrugged.

"I've had my vaccination," he replied. She rolled her eyes.

"So that door leads to your bedroom?" she questioned.

"Evidently."

"Couldn't be bothered to knock, could you?" she asked rhetorically, narrowing her gaze.

"As above," he replied simply. She rolled her eyes once more, and took a cherry from the bowl on the tray, biting into its rosy flesh. Darcy shifted nervously behind her as a trail of blood-red juice ran over her lip. She caught it with her thumb, wiping it over her lip and then licking the liquid off it.

He turned back to his orange juice and strawberries very quickly.

"Why are you eating breakfast in a bath?" he asked suddenly.

"Collette dragged me in here a few minutes ago. She stripped me and shoved me in here, then a maid came along with this," she said, gesturing to the elaborate set-up before her. "She was very sweet, her name is Madison. I asked her to join me, but she had to get back to the kitchens," she added. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"You know, she probably thought that you wanted to get her naked and feed her strawberries or something," he pointed out. Loli scowled.

"I asked her to join me for _breakfast_, not some sort of lesbian bubble-fest," she snapped. Darcy looked uncomfortable for a moment.

"You – you _aren't_ a – umm – you aren't a lesbian though, are you?" he asked awkwardly. She quirked an eyebrow.

"Why?" she asked in simple response. He shrugged. "I thought I was for a while. Then I just got completely turned off by all of those dog collars and female weight-lifters. No, I'm not. I like boys, not girls," she said coolly.

"And one day, you might even like _men_, not boys," he threw in. She scowled again.

"Shutup, unless you want me to throw bubbles at you," she ordered sharply.

"I'm terrified," he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. She too rolled her eyes, and then sunk back into the bath water, ignoring him for a few minutes.

"Why are you doing this modelling thing?" he asked her curiously. Loli shrugged.

"Joan likes it," she answered simply. Darcy nodded slowly.

"So does your kind do this a lot?" she asked curiously, after a pause. Darcy raised an eyebrow, although she couldn't see it, from her position.

"My _kind_?" he asked with equal question in his tone.

"You know, the fantastically rich," she shrugged. "Does your kind often eat breakfast in a spa bath?" she asked.

"It's a bit of a generalisation to assume that 'my kind' are all alike," he retorted pointedly. "I could question you if _your_ kind bathed at all, but _that_ would be considered as an offence," he drawled.

"_My_ kind?" Loli questioned, turning her head, meeting his gaze with angry, darkened eyes. "I'm sorry, but you don't actually know anything about me," she retorted pointedly. He shrugged.

"You don't know anything about _me_," he threw in, taking a bite from another strawberry. She arched an eyebrow.

"I know plenty," she replied coolly.

"Like _what_?" he asked sharply. She turned her head to face him again.

"I know that you own the Darcy Business Empire – worth billions of dollars, stock prices through the roof, specialising in everything from design, plastics, shipping, machinery, I know that you live in London, I know you have a sister and a nephew, I know that you're rolling in money, I know that you get annoyed by little, insignificant employees like me, I know that you own a private jet, that you drink coffee, and that you _hate_ Lolita," she recited. He rolled his eyes.

"_You_, the book, or the fashion?" he drawled, raising his eyebrows.

"I'd say all of the above, Eddy," she replied.

He smirked. There was fire in her eyes, but he knew that she was playing. He liked her little games a great deal.

_You're leading her on…_

_She's just a child, she'll get attached too easily, it'll turn messy…_

_She might be good for a tumble in bed, but you don't want anything more, don't do this to the kid…_

_She's ridiculous…_

_She's immature…_

_She's crass…_

_She's unrefined…_

_She's naked_.

"Well then, I suppose you've got me completely pinned," he said coolly, gazing down at her intensely through his clear, stormy eyes. She looked up at him with brilliantly blue ones.

"I'm good at working out people. I need to be able to do that for my art," she responded simply.

"Shame that you still don't know anything about me, then," he added, standing up, and leaving the bathroom.

Loli released a long, slow sigh the moment he had gone.

That had been strange.

She shook her head, trying to push the image of his bare chest, and his intense gaze from her head.

She hated him, right?

**A/N: Review my pretties, review!**


	18. Long Roads and Sharp Turnes

**A/N: Right, so I've been getting a lot of requests for more banter between Loli and Darcy banter, but it can't **_**all**_** be banter, or else there won't be any plot… lol. So, yeah, I'm trying to keep it moving. So far I've written up to Rosings, and I have some new ideas, so I'll definitely be adding them in. BTW, check out my profile page to see my new poll on the next theme I should have in a story, for example, SYCMIOYO was about music, Sweet Lolita is about fashion, etc. **

It wasn't until the late afternoon that Loli was able to get away from Collette and Clarity, with their millions of photos and 'little friends' who popped over to see Clarity's latest acquisition, like she was some sort of rare tropical fish to be stared at behind glass.

But the good thing was, she now had a whole new wardrobe filled to the brim with gorgeous, expensive designer clothing, and because she was going to be _photographed_ in it, she got it all for free.

She opened the large, ornate wardrobe in the room she was sleeping in, and softly ran her hands across the expensive, richly coloured fabrics. There must have been hundreds… _thousands_ of pounds worth of clothing in that wardrobe, and she owned it all.

Suddenly, it felt dirty.

She hadn't _earned_ the beautiful clothes; she had worn them and allowed her sister to take photos, which were going to be printed in some fashion magazine for the world to look at. It wasn't like her to accept things without earning them.

She would think about it, she promised herself. She would think about how long the 'doll' thing was going to drag on, she would think about when she would pull herself back into reality.

She stepped into the hallway, and walked slowly down the stairs, dialling a familiar on her mobile.

"Madison Gardiner," was the greeting she received when the phone stopped ringing.

"Hi mum!" Loli replied warmly. "It's me, how are you?" she asked quickly.

"Oh Moon! It's _so_ good to hear your voice sweetie, I'm fine, just fine, how are you?" Madison responded.

"Well, I'm okay, I guess," she answered, shrugging, and strolling around the entrance hall at the foot of the grand staircase. "So I got to Netherfield, Joan convinced me," she informed her. Madison laughed.

"You always _did_ do whatever that girl suggested," she said lovingly. Loli laughed too.

"Come on, she's the _only_ person in the world to get me to do things I don't want to do," she smiled in response. "I'm doing that 'doll' thing I told you about too, and _yes_, I'm doing it for Joan," she admitted, laughter still in her voice. "I just got a whole wardrobe filled with Alannah Hill for free, all I have to do is model it in a few pictures, and occasionally follow McBitch around like some sort of puppy, I think," she explained.

"Hmm, you're a lucky girl then," Madison laughed, but Loli rolled her eyes.

"Not really, she's just so in my face all the time! I wish that I had never become one of her little puppet things, I feel so… used," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's not _me_, I don't do shit like this," she added.

"Moon, only _you_, the _real_ you, would feel used by doing this, and that's just a testament to the fact that you _aren't_ like other people, and you're _far_ from being a puppet for some magazine editor," Madison replied, her tone serious and loving.

"It's just been… this place is beautiful, and I seem to always be treated like a Princess here, but I'm still so freaked out by it all," she laughed.

"Still hate your boss?" Madison questioned playfully.

"Of course I do! That hasn't changed at all," she replied, grinning.

"He's there at Netherfield, isn't he?" Madison questioned curiously.

"Yeah, it's a little awkward and everything," she muttered.

"So I googled him, you know," Madison said conversationally. "Saw pictures, profiles, everything," she added slyly. "He's quite attractive, you know…"

"Okay, I _admit_ that McPosh is _very_ attractive, but he's –" Loli began, before Madison interrupted her.

"Oh no, you can_not_ badmouth your boss to your own mother, doesn't work like that," she laughed, no sternness in her tone. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Well then, I guess without that I can only tell you that he's very good looking, and loves strawberries," sighed Loli laughingly. "And very easily irritable too, might I add."

Darcy smiled down at her. He liked to look at her. He had left his room as she had descended the stairs, and when she started dialling a number on her mobile, he decided to stay at the top of the stairs and just watch her. He determined that she was talking to her mother, and blushed when he was brought up, smiling softly as she called him attractive.

After all, he knew that she liked him. That was obvious enough, but sometimes he got this feeling that she was just _looking_ for things about him to pick at. It made him feel very self-conscious. But hearing her say _aloud_ that she found him attractive was reassuring.

She was like no other woman. Independent, beautiful, painfully clever and very talented, and she didn't just let people walk all over her, she was strong.

He needed something like that.

Just not her. It couldn't be her.

Loli slid her phone shut with a smile, after Eve had informed her that she needed 'to go potty, and mama said we can't talk phone on potty', and they had hung up. She missed them all terribly, but it was good to hear their voices again.

She looked around, and decided that she felt like wandering, trying to work her way around the place. Collette was in her room for the evening, and she didn't know where the others were, but she felt like having a little look around. She was still wearing one of the dresses she had been modelling, it was a simple pink and blue frock with a nice little collar and pretty buttons, she had taken her hair down from the elaborate do and wore her pink ankle ballet slippers, rather than the chunky heels.

She pattered around the hallways for a little while, finding a music room with a beautiful grand piano and one of the largest harps she had ever seen, a darkened billiards room, several parlours and dining rooms for different occasions, what looked like a little school-house and play room, before she came to the library again, and pushed the door open.

Joan, Cale, Clarity and Darcy were all in the room, Joan and Cale chatting away on a chaise in the corner, Darcy tapping away at his laptop, and Clarity strolling around the room, occasionally looking at books with disinterest.

"Oh Lolita! _So_ good to see you, sweet," Clarity greeted with false sincerity. Darcy glanced up, met her eye, and then turned back to his laptop. So, she thought, they were putting the incident in the bathroom in the same little box that they had tucked away Tokyo. No wonder all of his employees feared and hated him, she thought dully.

"I was just having a look around," she said simply, walking into the room. She shut the door behind her, and glanced out the window. The rain had turned very light a few hours ago, and everything was covered in a fine layer of water. The grounds looked beautiful. She decided that she would go for a walk when the rain ceased a little more, and started looking through books with curiosity.

"Who are you emailing, Fitz?" she heard Clarity question behind her. Loli had found a perch to sit on, several feet high off the ground at the top of one of the sliding ladders, pulling out a heavy novel and opening it on her lap. She put her headphones on, but didn't turn on her ipod.

"Gigi," he replied shortly.

"Oh, you _must_ tell her how I adored those pictures she sent yesterday of her and Callum in Spain," she gushed. Loli glanced down; she was fawning over Darcy, her hand over his arm, leaning down so her breasts were practically having a conversation with his collar. "She's there with your cousin, isn't she?" she questioned.

"Yes, with Richard," he informed her in monotone, still typing away at his MacBook.

"And how _is_ dear Richard?" Clarity asked after a pause.

"Fine," he answered shortly.

"You type so quickly."

"Actually, I type relatively slow."

"Perhaps you should hire a typist? Oh, I know! You could get Lolita to type for you!" Clarity suggested, as if struck with an epiphany. "See? That would be _splendid_, you would have _so _much more free time," she pointed out.

"Loli – Miss Gardiner isn't trained as a typist, I hired her as an artist," he replied coolly, glancing up at Loli, who pretended she wasn't looking. He stared at her for a moment, before turning back to his laptop when Clarity looked up too. She scowled at her, and then returned her hand to his shoulder. He winced.

"I know, but don't you think it's a more fitting role?" she questioned. Loli wanted to snort in laughter.

"Clarity," Darcy said in a low voice, probably assuming that Loli couldn't hear him because she had her ipod headphones in her ears. "I don't understand the problem you have with Lolita – she's talented, and she's _my_ employee, so I'll decide what I do with her," he muttered.

"I _know_," Clarity whined. "And she really is a _good_ doll, when she's not complaining or trying to get away," she said sincerely. Probably the only occasion that Loli had ever heard her _be_ sincere. "But I just feel that it's the extent of her abilities. She's so temperamental, and with _no_ breeding or connections, she hasn't that much hope of making her way in society, she needs to stand behind me, seen but not heard," she urged. "Please Fitz, fire her. Let _me_ keep her, she'll be very well taken care of, she won't even _need_ her job," she tried to convince him. He pulled away from her.

"You don't _get_ it Clarity, _yes_, she has no breeding or connections, but it's not for you to determine whether or not she can make it without standing behind you," he practically spat. "Everything that she's demonstrated says the exact opposite," he added pointedly. Clarity's face fell.

"Fitz, I can't believe you're taking _her_ side on this matter," she said, sounding hurt. "You can find workers anywhere. I _can't_ find another doll, you're just being selfish," she said coldly. "Here – I have her pictures," she muttered, pulling a small USB stick from her purse, which sat on the table. She pushed Darcy aside, and stuck it into the side of the computer.

He was silent for a few minutes as she brought up the files. Loli couldn't see the computer screen from her position, but she could see Darcy's face. He stared at the computer with an unreadable expression, Clarity watching on coolly.

"Not _tell_ me that this girl doesn't have potential," she snapped finally.

"I thought you hated her."

"God, of course I do. But she's attractive, so it doesn't bother me," she retorted, crossing her arms. "Those pictures are far more beautiful than anything _she's_ ever designed or drawn or done whatever," she added pointedly.

"You've never even seen her work. _I_ employed her – I own her. She's not yours. I have no problem with her being one of your little dolls, but if it comes down to it – she's a Darcy Designs employee first, _not_ a model," he snapped.

"Do you _know_ what she could _be_ with the proper advertising? Why are you trying to spoil her future?" she questioned flippantly.

"For Christ sake – you two both need to get over yourselves! Loli is a _person_, not a piece of meat!" Cale cried with irritation from his place on the chaise with Joan. Darcy and Clarity turned to face him.

"If you two keep trying to make her do what you want she'll go back to Tokyo," Joan said softly, looking between the two, and glancing up to her silent sister, who to all appearances, was reading a book. Loli struggled to keep up her façade, but she was sure that Joan was slightly suspicious. "Loli – if you can hear me, say so. If you _can't_ hear me, then I'm going to tell everyone what you _really_ did when Mum _thought_ she sent you to ballet camp!" she cried out, staring at her sister intently. Loli did not react.

"Obviously she can't hear us?" Cale offered.

"Loli doesn't do what she's told as a general rule. Trying to make her will only end in tears," Joan explained.

"I _pay_ her to do as she's told. She wouldn't disregard what I tell her to do – she never has in a professional sense," Darcy snapped.

"Whit, dude, that's her _job_. And she does her job because she _likes_ it, not because you tell her to," Cale pointed out. Darcy scowled.

"This isn't helping the situation – we can't share her," Clarity snapped.

"I told you, Clarity! You have no right to try and steal my employees from under my nose!" Darcy retorted pointedly. Joan sighed.

"What about when Loli gets a boyfriend, or gets married? Will you have to split her into thirds?" Joan questioned with shy playfulness.

"And when she has children they'll need to get notes from Whit and my sister to see their mother," Cale laughed.

"Let me have her. She can work freelance for you." Clarity urged Darcy.

"This isn't up for negotiation!" he cried in annoyance. "I refuse to let you have her! It doesn't matter how lovely she looks in a few magazines, she's _not_ yours! You can find plenty of other girls who are just as beautiful as Lolita, but _I_ can't find one with her skills!" he snapped.

"Whit, listen to yourself!" Cale laughed. "You're getting to worked up about this! She's a person, an employee and a friend! You're talking about her like she's some sort of –"

"Doll."

They all turned quickly to look up at her. She smirked.

"How long have you been eavesdropping?" Clarity snapped coolly.

"Umm… I think since I came in," she Loli replied thoughtfully. "Yes. That'd be it," she stated, nodding with a smile. She put the book back on the shelf, and started to descend the ladder.

"I can't _believe_ you Loli!" Joan cried in slight disapproval. "You sat there the whole time, not saying anything?" she questioned.

"Well, sometimes practising silence really is the best thing to do," she shrugged, giving a small wink at Darcy, who looked thoughtful for a second, curiosity overcoming the expression of complete shock that had been resting on his face. When he recalled that he had said that to Collette a few days earlier, he nodded at her. Her feet pressed lightly onto the ground, and after a short dizzy spell, she turned on her ipod, and left the room.

She headed upstairs, and changed into jeans and an old shirt, pulling her hair up in a simple bun, and put her ipod in her pocket. She headed back downstairs, and out the back.

Darcy was waiting for her. He obviously knew she was going to go for a walk. He looked up when she walked into the courtyard, and strolled over to her, hands in his pockets.

They walked in silence for about ten minutes, Loli leading in a sense, her shoes held in hand, her feet relishing the soft, damp grass beneath her feet.

"Cold?" he asked her, after a little while. She shook her head. He nodded.

They kept on going, still saying nothing, until Darcy suddenly spoke again.

"I was right though, wasn't I?" he questioned. Loli glanced up at him curiously.

"About what?" she asked in confusion.

"If it came down to Clarity or I, you would pick me," he stated.

"Don't you mean that if it came down to being an artist or a doll, I would pick my art?" she questioned. He made a small noise in the back of his throat, which may have sounded vaguely like '_no_'.

"It's true though, isn't it?" he responded. "If you had to pick between art and this ridiculous Lolita obsession you have, you would pick art. You would pick your work, your job, me. You wouldn't pick clothes and ribbons and lace – and Clarity," he stated.

"I don't know," she answered, shrugging.

"What do you _mean_, you don't know?" he questioned incredulously.

"Well, if I had to pick between Clarity's collection thing and my job, I'd pick my job. But if I had to pick between Lolita and my job, then I don't know what I would do," she explained.

"But – it's just _clothing_, ridiculous dresses and skirts and such, why would you even consider it?" he exclaimed, glancing at her in confusion and disdain.

"What's my name?"

"What?"

"What is my _name_?" she questioned sternly. He blinked in confusion.

"Lolita," he replied.

"You're asking me to pick between being me and being an artist. I can't do that. Lolita _is_ my art, it _is_ me, I can't just separate the two!" she cried.

"If everyone in the world is stripped naked, there'll still be artists, _you'll_ still be an artist, but you won't be Lolita," he responded, after a pause.

"What is my _name_, Darcy?" she practically growled. He rolled his eyes.

"Lolita, but –"

"Then yes, there will be at least one Lolita. _I'll_ be a Lolita, and I'll be an artist too. "It's not two different parts of me. That's what fashion _is_ – or at least what it should be. _That_ is why I love Tokyo," she explained, her irritation subsiding, turning into a migraine.

Darcy shook his head at her in silence. He wondered what he had thought she would say.

'_Oh yes Whit, I would pick you over Clarity ANYDAY, how would you like some casual, no-string sex?_'

He frowned. He was becoming a danger to himself.

They walked back to the house in silence. They both parted their ways without so much as a word between them, and the conversation was placed in the hidden box, along with Tokyo and the bathroom earlier that morning.

Darcy wanted to leave. He _needed_ to leave. He had a serious problem, and he couldn't risk his career, his livelihood, and, as he was reminded by a phone call from Clarkson, his head of security, other people's lives.

"Has Wickham made any contact with you?" Clarkson asked; when Darcy had locked himself in his room before dinner.

"No, nothing," he replied, with a sigh. "I'm getting worried about what he's up to," he confessed.

"We still have Gigi and Callum under constant surveillance, and Richard is keeping a very close eye on the two of them," Clarkson assured him. "Have you determined the relationship between your employee and Wickham yet?" he asked, as Darcy ran a hand through his hair.

"From my understanding, he just wandered into her office," he informed him. "I don't think she's stupid enough to get involved with a man like him," he assured Clarkson, who he could tell was most likely frowning.

"I'm more concerned about your behaviour to James, actually," he replied. "I've seen the security footage, you completely snapped at him, he's going to think that you have feelings for the kid," he explained.

"She's just become one of Clarity Bingley's new dolls," Darcy stated immediately.

"That… could be a problem," muttered Clarkson. "We may need to contact her, and inform her of what's going on, Darcy," he said shortly.

"No. Not a chance. Leave her _out_ of this," he snapped.

"Her life could be in danger if Wickham thinks that you two are more than just boss and employee!" Clarkson replied angrily. "We've pulled up all of her records, Darcy, she's practically a minor, grade A student, never been in trouble, except for a few schoolgirl pranks. Those are the kids that always seem to get killed in these sorts of things – and if Wickham has even the _slightest_ idea that you two might be close, she's going to find herself in a shallow grave."

Hearing it come out of Clarkson's mouth made the reality cold. He knew that he had received countless death threats from Wickham, from Wickham's family and associates, but he had never thought that anyone else would have to be involved.

"Her sister is my best friend's girlfriend. She models for my best friend's sister. She works for me. Those are fragile links, Clarkson," he replied coolly.

"The link here is your best friend."

"No. Caleb has _nothing_ to do with this," Darcy practically spat.

"You're getting into a bit of a mess here Whit, and there isn't much you can do to get out of it," he replied.

There was a pause.

"Just make sure that I don't get killed. Alert the owner of Lolita's building as to the situation of Wickham, tell them that he used to stalk her or something. I'll tell her to steer clear of James."

He hung up, and fell onto his bed, closing his eyes, and sighing deeply.

Reputations.

Fortunes.

Emotions.

Careers.

_Lives_.

They were all at stake.

Clarkson was right.

**A/N: Oooh, a little bit of danger. Review quickly, before I kill someone off. And remember to check out my poll on my profile page :D**


	19. Sudden Winds bring Winter

**A/N: So, we move along, fairly quickly now. Remember to leave a review at the door!**

"It was because of Mum, wasn't it," Joan sniffed miserably, blowing her nose with a Kleenex. "It was because she turned up to Netherfield with the triplets," she stated.

Loli sighed. That _had_ been a… memorable evening.

It had started when Cale, foolishly thinking that meeting Joan's family could possibly be a _good_ thing, offered to have them over for dinner. Joan wasn't that apprehensive about the prospect, but Loli, who, after a week without her stepmother was getting quite used to the feeling of freedom, was practically shitting her pants at the prospect.

So, Fanny had arrived with Lindsay (wearing the same clingy, metallic half zebra half leopard print mini-dress that had mentally scarred Loli the _last_ time she visited the Bettenne household), Kayte (who couldn't stop _giggling_ the entire evening, _or_ making googly eyes at Darcy, pulling down her tight black top to show off her almost non-existent breasts) and Mya (still continuing with white hair and red lips, wearing black skinny leg jeans, and a paint-splattered THE ACADEMY IS tee, her headphones in her ears the whole night), wearing one of her shameful cocktail dresses, fawning over Joan, insulting Loli, battering her eyelashes at Cale, and earning herself the scorn of Darcy.

"Why, what a _lovely_ room this is, Mr Bingley," Fanny commented, as she and her triplets sat on the chaise in the front sitting room. Joan sat in an armchair next to them, Clarity occupying an ottoman lounge with the upmost grace and superiority, Cale smiling with slight nervousness from his position in the armchair closest to Joan, Darcy holding up the wall with a moody, intimidating expression, and Loli sat next to Clarity, certainly not by choice.

"Uh – Mum decorated this, didn't she?" Cale questioned, glancing to Clarity, who gave a superior nod. "And please, call me Caleb, or Cale, Mrs Bettenne," he urged her.

"Then you _have_ to call me Fanny, Caleb, dear," she replied warmly, fluttering her eyelashes. Loli wanted to gag. "These are my youngest girls, Lindsay, Kayte, and Mya," she said, pointing to each of her children in order.

"It's _so_ nice to meet you guys," Lindsay said, imitating her mother's eyelash fluttering.

"Yeah, like, _so_ nice," Kayte giggled, her eyes locking onto Darcy, who rolled his eyes.

"Ditto," Mya commented with disinterest, slouching in the chair.

"Well, this is Clarity, my sister, and my friend back here is Whit Darcy," Cale introduced, smiling warmly.

"Whit? That's an interesting name," Fanny commented.

Darcy said nothing.

"Is it shortened from anything?" she questioned, a little bit put-out by his lack of response. He rolled his eyes, as if simply looking at her was a chore.

"Yes."

His reply was short and blunt. Fanny frowned, and then moved onto Clarity.

"I _love_ your magazine, by the way, I've subscribed since it first came out," she gushed.

"Pleased to hear it," Clarity drawled sarcastically. "Lolita, fix your posture," she snapped to Loli, who was wearing a pale blue frock and white stockings with her own pair of white Mary Jane's. They had just finished another photo shoot, and Loli hadn't had a chance to change before her mother burst in.

Loli stared at her doubtfully. She was sitting perfectly fine. She crossed her legs.

"Much better."

She wanted to roll her eyes and scoff, but she held it in.

"_Loli_, is that new?" Fanny questioned her stepdaughter.

"Yes, Fanny, 'tis," she replied. Fanny gave an airy laugh.

"She _still _hasn't learnt, it's _Mum_, dear," she practically hissed, glaring at Loli, who blinked.

"O… kay…" she muttered, trailing off.

"Are you guys gonna throw a party?" Lindsay asked suddenly.

"A – umm, what?" Cale questioned, frowning slightly.

"You know, you could do like, a whole ball thing in a joint like this," she explained. "It would be _totally_ off the hook, you should do it," she urged him.

"Well, that's a… nice suggestion, Lindsay, wasn't it?" Cale questioned. The girl beamed.

"Totally. Like Lindsay Lohan," she answered. "Except she's a ranga, and I hate rangas," she explained.

"Ranga?" questioned Clarity doubtfully, giving an airy laugh.

"You know, like a ginger-ninja, red-nut, orang-utan, hey-did-you-stand-out-in-the-rain-and-rust-or-something," Kayte threw in, amidst her giggles. She whispered something in Lindsay's ear, and then giggled even more.

"Nah, he's like – sort of ginger-blonde," she answered, glancing at Cale. "Rangas are redheads," she explained finally.

"What's wrong with redheads?" Cale questioned curiously.

"Aw, you know. They're all _bitches_," Lindsay said, glaring at Loli, who rolled her eyes.

"And the fact that you most likely carry the 'ginger-ninja' gene is completely disregarded, I presume," Darcy commented dryly. Lindsay scowled, and was about to snap something in retort, when Loli silenced her with a glare.

"How old is this house, Caleb?" Fanny crooned sweetly, gazing over at her hopeful son-in-law with adoring eyes.

"Uh… a hundred and fifty years or so, I guess," he shrugged. "It was modelled after Pemberley Manor – that's Whit's place, actually, it was built by my ancestor and named after an estate he owned in Hertfordshire earlier," he explained. "It was a complete coincidence that Whit and I became friends, because _my_ great-great uncle's great-great something-something was best friends with _Whit_'s ancestor whatsy, I think he'd be his great-great, umm…well I know he was titled in eighteen something-something…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "Whit, what was your dad's title?" he asked, turning his head. Darcy coughed.

"Earl of Derbyshire," he managed to get out, very quietly.

Fanny's eyes went wide.

"Tell me, Mr Darcy, do you have any _sibling_? Older brothers, perhaps?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I have a younger sister," he muttered stiffly.

"So… that would mean that _you_ inherited the title of Earl of Derbyshire," she stated.

"Actually, I would be addressed as Lord Darcy of Derbyshire, rather than Whit Darcy, Earl of Derbyshire," he answered pointedly.

"And… is there a Mrs Lord Darcy?" she asked, curiously.

"My mother," he answered pointedly. Clarity made a cross on her chest and muttered '_may she rest in peace_'. Loli stared at her curiously. She had never known Clarity to be religious. She supposed it was to attract Darcy's attention.

"Oh, so you _aren't_ married," Fanny stated, her grin growing like a Cheshire cat. She glanced at Joan, who was looking at Cale, and Cale at her. She frowned slightly, then looked from Lindsay to Kayte to Mya, and then finally, stopping at Loli. She looked thoughtful for a moment.

Darcy's scowl had only grown. He stood in the corner, looking very dark and broody. Loli almost wanted to chuckle.

"So how long have you been in London, Caleb?" Fanny questioned.

"A few months, really, I spend a lot of time in the country, or travelling abroad," he explained.

"And… are you planning on staying long in London?" she questioned hopefully. Cale grinned, and shared a look with Joan, who smiled beguilingly.

"I think so, ma'am," he replied, still grinning broadly.

"So how do you make your own magazine?" Lindsay questioned suddenly, turning to Clarity. She scowled in return.

"With a lot of determination, resources, and funds," she replied pointedly.

"And a brother who owns a publishing company helps too, Lindsay," laughed Cale. Clarity rolled her eyes.

"And how do you become a model?" Kayte giggled. Clarity looked her up and down slowly.

"Well stop eating, for starters," Clarity began. Kayte looked down-crest, she wasn't fat at all, but, like most teenagers, thought she was anyway. "Then get an agent, or sign up to an agency," she continued. "Then keep your mouth closed and do what your employers tell you to do," she finished with a pointed drawl.

"With this not eating thing, which do you think is more effective, anorexia, or bulimia?" Lindsay asked stupidly.

"How about a McDonalds burger and fries, Linds?" suggested Loli. Lindsay scowled at her.

"No way, then I'd end up looking like _you_," she snapped. Loli sighed, and rolled her eyes. "So how did you get so skinny?" she questioned Clarity. The woman smirked, and held herself tall.

"Iron will and the grace of God," she replied. Lindsay blinked.

"So I have to stop eating _and_ go to church? Man, this blows," she muttered.

"You know, bitch-face, some people go to church because they actually _like_ it," Mya drawled to her sister. "You see, there's this thing called '_religion_', and I know that you sleep through it most of the time at school, but it's really quite interesting, you should try the one that worships Barbie dolls, or maybe the pasta thing would suit you," she added sarcastically.

"I don't eat _pasta_! That makes you _fat_!" Lindsay cried in disgust.

"Yeah, well so does the microbes in the oxygen, and I don't see you giving up breathing," she countered. Lindsay paled instantly; she and Kayte holding their breaths. Mya rolled her eyes, and turned up her ipod.

"Mya, is that true?" Fanny exclaimed.

Darcy turned around, banged his head on the wall, and then turned back to face the group.

"Oh yeah, and every time you talk, you work the muscles in your jaw, making them stronger, therefore bigger. So talking gives you a double chin," she added sincerely. Fanny's eyebrows rose instantly, and her mouth shut quickly.

"Thanks for that, Mya, isn't it?" Clarity commented. Mya glanced at her.

"Please, call my Nightshade. It's my new name," Mya requested, turning to Cale. "You have a piano in one of the other rooms. Can I go play it?" she asked. Cale's mouth opened, and closed, but he had no idea what to say. "Thanks, Chuckles," she replied, standing up, and leaving the room. A few minutes later, banging and clanging could be heard quite clearly in their parlour. Loli winced.

"I hoped that she might improve if she played a piano that was actually in tune," she muttered, sighing, before glancing over at her stepmother and two sisters.

At least they were being quiet.

"I – I mean – C – Cale was just so – so _perfect_!" Joan wailed, burying her head in the pillows of her bed.

"Joan, sweetie, you've been crying for _three days_," Loli tried to soothe her, patting her on the back. "How serious were you and Cale anyway?" she asked softly. Joan sniffled.

"I – I slept with him the night before he left for America," she managed to mutter. Loli's mouth dropped.

"Oh, honey…"

"I mean, everything at Netherfield was so perfect!" Joan sniffled. "On the last night, he snuck into my room, and he slept next to me, he told me that he wasn't expecting anything, but he just wanted to be close to me," she wept, pulling her head out of the pillow, and curling into the foetal position, another Kleenex clutched tightly in hand.

Joan had been a wreck for the past three days.

Because three days ago, she got a message on her answering machine from Clarity, informing her that Cale needed to go to America right away for business, and wasn't returning for several months, if ever. She said that he hadn't given her any message to say to Joan, but that he was very thrilled in meeting up with Gigi, Whit's sister, who was doing a world tour, and was stopping in America over the next few weeks.

"You know, I've always thought there was something going on between those two, maybe they'll finally get together!" she had said with glee over the machine.

So for the whole weekend, Loli had been comforting Joan in her distress, soothing her, cooking for her (which was novel indeed), helping her shower and basically keep alive.

"Maybe I was no good, and that's why he left," she whimpered.

"_No_, Joan! That is _so_ not true!" Loli cried. "I don't know why he left, but I bet you _anything_ it was McBitch and McPosh's doing," she said firmly.

In fact, she practically _knew_ it was so. But she could prove nothing, so kept her mouth shut.

"Hey, I come bearing ice cream!" came a call from the front hall of Joan's apartment. It was Chandra, letting herself in.

"We're in the bedroom!" Loli cried in response.

"Of course you're in the bedroom, you've been in the bedroom for days now," Chandra replied, walking into the room, carrying a large tub of cookie dough ice cream, and three spoons. She plonked down on the bed, and took off the lid.

"I don't feel like eating," Joan muttered.

"Oh no – _eat_, girl!" Loli ordered, pulling her up, and handing her a spoon. Joan hesitatingly took a bite, lingering on the taste.

"Cale liked cookie dough ice cream," she mumbled. Loli groaned.

"Joan, I swear to God, if you start crying every time you see something that Cale liked, then I'm going to –"

"_The power of orange knickers,_

_The power of orange knickers,_

_The power of orange knickers,_

_Under my petticoat…_"

She muttered a curse under her breath, and pulled out her phone.

"It's Jamie," she muttered.

"Answer it!" Chandra ordered.

"Go on Loli, answer it," Joan told her weakly. Loli smiled, and slid off the bed, heading into the hallway.

"Hey Jamie," she greeted warmly, sliding the phone open.

"Hey Loli! How is Joan doing?" she heard his familiar voice question. She smiled. She liked his voice.

"She's okay, I guess, hanging in there," she replied.

She met Jamie again one night after work, the fist day back after the two week stint at Netherfield, he was getting a coffee at the café closet to the DD building; they had spotted each other, and got dinner together. She found him very easy to talk to, he was attractive, charming, clever and funny, and most of all, he didn't like her boss. He had never told her why, but she could accept that it was possible for someone to want to push a man like Darcy out of your head completely.

So, over the next week or so, they made a tradition of having dinner together after work every couple of days. He was a salesperson in a sport store not far from her building, so it was no trouble for them to meet halfway at Wong's House of Fine Eatings every night.

"I'm pretty certain that it was Clarity, or Darcy or someone that separated her and Cale though," she told him conspiratorially. Jamie laughed.

"Well, if I still know Whit, then it was _definitely_ him," he replied. "It's not the first time he's done it, either, you know," he added. "He's got a bit of history behind him, let's just say," he muttered.

"I can't really talk much now, Joan is still in her room, now with ice cream, but we'll have dinner again tomorrow night, right?" she questioned.

"Definitely!" he agreed. "And can I get a photo of you and I tonight, too? I have a few friends who don't believe that I'm having dinner with a super-model every other night, and I'd like to rub it in their faces, see," he laughed.

"Sure thing," she giggled in response. "Okay, I have to go. See you tomorrow night," she said finally. He bid her goodbye, and they hung up.

She remembered to wipe the goofy smile off her face before she went back into the bedroom, sliding her phone into her pocket.

"Everything good?" Chandra questioned, talking with her mouth full of ice cream.

"Yeah, fine," Loli replied, taking a seat and a spoon.

"Oh, I meant to ask, sweetie, but how have your dates with Colin been going?" Joan asked, looking up at her little sister, before sticking a large spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

"Err… torture seems the appropriate word," she replied, rolling her eyes. "He's _so_ incredibly _boring_! All he talks about are stocks and numbers and his boss, the _'most esteemed Lady Ekaterina'_," she recited. "Did I tell you what happened at work?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope," Joan managed to sound out, still working on her ice cream.

"Well, you know how I have to see McPosh every morning, right?" she questioned, as her two friends nodded. "Well, I'm sitting in McPosh's office as he's telling me about another commission with Bose, before the door opens and Colin just _barges_ in, telling Darcy that he only _just_ found out I work for him, and he felt he simply _had_ to introduce himself, because _apparently_ Colin's boss is Darcy's aunt," she explained.

"Oh. My. God." Chandra exclaimed. "It's a small fucking world after all."

"I know! Darcy couldn't have looked more shocked, it was _totally_ not the morning for him to come in, because I'd started trying to ease Lolita into my work outfit, and Darcy had only just gotten over that big Alannah Hill shock," she continued.

"Speaking of which, Clarity has four parties over the next ten days that you need to attend," Chandra informed her. Loli groaned, and fell back into the pillows.

"Can't Elaine do it? I'm not her _only_ doll, you know," she muttered angrily.

"Loli, don't you get it? You haven't been able to go for a walk, to work, shopping, or for a meal without someone recognising you! It's _you_ that they want!" she explained. "_You_ are Lolita Grace Starchild, _you're_ the one pasted all over the past two editions of _Clarity_, you're the one standing next to Clarity Bingley in all of the gossip rags, _you're_ the one that's supposed to be causing a style revolution with your combination of 'ultra-feminine with ultra-childlike influences' and 'pure, refined elegance'," she recited.

Loli rolled her eyes.

"Who wants to order pizza?" she suggested. Chandra groaned in mock frustration, and laughingly whacked her friend's arm. Loli laughed in response, but only filled her spoon up with ice cream and stuck it in her mouth.

Joan smiled softly.

She took another mouthful of ice cream, watching her friends pretend fight, and gave a little sigh.

The smile faded.

**A/N: Yes, I know it was a big jump in the plot, but this is just how it came out. More explanations will come, I promise. Please review! I love reviews more than anything, they make me so happy!!!**


	20. To Lolita, love Humbert

**A/N: I like this chapter. Did you guys not like the last? I didn't get quite as many reviews for it, if you don't like it, please tell me why, **_**please**_** *puppy dog eyes***

**Disclaimer: yeah… it's probably not mine.**

Loli got out of the shower wearily, wrapping a towel around her waist.

She had stayed up late at Joan's, trying to comfort her enough so that she could make an appearance at work the next day.

She stepped into her bedroom, and pulled open her second wardrobe. She had been given so many new clothes that she needed a whole new wardrobe just to fit them in, luckily, she was able to find one exactly the same at her other, and they looked very cute, standing parallel to each other in her bedroom.

She selected a cute cream lace sheath dress that dipped just a little at the front, unlike most sheath dresses. She grabbed a waist-belt in powder blue with a silver clasp in the middle, and slid into her newest, and probably favourite pair of shoes, powder-blue Prada pumps.

She inspected herself in the mirror. She looked nice, she told herself, grabbing a coat. She tried to smile, but Joan's face was lingering in her mind's eye. She glanced at her clock, and swore. She didn't have that long before she needed to meet Darcy that morning, and she still needed to get the cup of coffee she was pretty certain she needed.

She groaned and grabbed her bag, and rushed through her apartment, pulling open the front door.

And… then she tripped.

After grumbling angrily and pulling herself up, she glanced at the floor outside of her door, looking for what had tripped her. She gasped, and pulled out her phone instantly.

_Chan, I got another one_!

Her text was short and sweet, but she was so excited that she didn't have time to make it more detailed. She picked up the fairly large powder blue box with a vibrant pink ribbon and carried it carefully into her apartment.

_What is it this time???_

She glanced at Chandra's response briefly, before she nervously undid the ribbon.

Ever since she was first published in _Clarity_ magazine, she had started getting gifts.

Most of them were things like flowers and fan letters and such from people who read the magazine, but she had also been given several ridiculously expensive gifts, all of them wrapped in powder blue boxes, with pink silk ribbons, all with the same little gift label, _To Lolita, from Humbert_. She knew it was a false name, the name of the protagonist who falls desperately in love with Lolita from the famous Nabokov novel, but it was thrilling, really.

The first gift she had been given was a gorgeous pair of Manolo Blahnick pumps, light pink, covered in white French lace. They were beautiful, and went with practically everything she owned, _and_, they fit perfectly.

The next was a bottle of Chanel _Coco Mademoiselle,_ and another of No5, wrapped to perfection. Then came a gorgeous Birkin bag in pale pink, it too absolutely stunning. And then three tickets to the Royal Ballet, that she had attended with Chandra and Joan, and on the day of the event came a simply _gorgeous_ powder blue (most of the gifts came in either powder blue, pale pink or cream) silk Gucci dress and matching Prada heels that she wore.

The last gift had been rather personal, but probably more expensive than any of the others. It was a pair of underwear and a bra, made out of powder blue silk lace, with pink silken ribbons laces in around the edges, tied in cute little bows on the sides.

But the amazing thing about the set was that they were _covered_ with little, tiny diamonds.

_Real _diamonds. Real pink and blue diamonds, practically woven into the fabric in such a manner that she couldn't take them out even if she wanted to.

It was the most gorgeous thing she owned.

That was, until she opened her latest gift.

She took back what she had said about the bra and panties, _this_ was the most expensive she had received.

Inside the blue and pink box was another, a stunning rosewood chest, with beautiful engravings carved into the surface, and a silver plate on the top, where _Lolita_ was written in curled script, encrusted with tiny pink and blue sapphires. She looked at the chest with wonder, and held it up (it was very heavy, actually), to see what was on the bottom.

As she suspected, it was another silver plate.

_For Lolita,_

_Now, forever, and always,_

_Love,_

_Humbert_.

She put the chest back down nervously, her lithe fingers searching through the tissue paper in the blue box for the key.

She found it, old fashioned, made of white gold, and held it up to the light. She smiled. It had _Lolita_ engraved into it's side, the 'i' dotted with a tiny diamond, and the handle at the end where people threaded the keys into a chain, which was normally round was in the shape of a love heart. She pushed it into the lock on the chest, and turned it slowly.

The box seemed to move by itself. The lid moved up slowly, probably powered by clockwork, and, when it opened, there was a tiny little ballerina spinning around in a circle, with long red hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes, wearing a light pink tutu.

It played a soft, quiet tune. She recognised it as '_Kiss the Rain'_ by Yiruma, probably one of the most beautiful piano composers ever, and '_Kiss the Rain' _was one of his best works. She watched, enchanted, before a glimmer caught her eye.

She watched the little draws push out, and compartments open. She guessed correctly, it was clockwork. She saw another keyhole in the back; she supposed that to wind the box up she had to turn it.

But for now, she was too distracted with the jewels to care about the clockwork.

They were gorgeous. On the first level, a string of the most magnificent pair of pearls known to man, with earrings, a ring, and a bracelet to match. She fingered the glowing white orbs delicately. They were stunning.

On the next level, diamonds and white gold. A diamond choker necklace, two sets of earrings, a ring, a watch, a bracelet, and white gold chain, with a simple pendant on the end. A small, diamond love heart.

And on the last level were jewels with more colour. Rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, in gorgeous hues of pink and blue and yellow and green, all glittering at her in wonder.

She pulled forth from the last level a small charm bracelet, holding it up to the light. It tinkled softly in her hand. She spun it round between her lithe fingers, and inspected each charm in turn. A small, pink sapphire strawberry, a tiny ballerina figurine, a smaller model of the one in the chest, a little pink ribbon and another in blue, a small model of the key to open the chest she had just received, a little diamond love heart, a miniature oval locket with a picture of her on the inside, and another of Nabokov, a tiny Eiffel tower, a very small, working fob watch, and lastly a tiny white gold panda.

She fingered the delicate pink sapphire strawberry pendant, her breath held in tightly. She wanted to cry, really, she did. It was all so _beautiful_.

Not for the first time, she wondered who could have bought her these things. She had no idea; really, she always assumed that it was just an admirer from afar.

But how did they know her favourite colours? Her sizes? The fact that she loved white gold, pandas and strawberries?

She bit her lip nervously as she glanced at the clock. She would be running late if she didn't leave soon, and getting coffee was out of the question. She put on the pearl earrings, sighing at how beautiful they were, before she slid the charm bracelet onto her wrist. She grabbed the pink ribbon from the box; it was a sort of tradition to wear the ribbon when she got a present from the mysterious admirer. She tied her hair back in a low, loosely flowing ponytail with the ribbon, her fringe falling prettily to the side of her face.

_The most gorgeous jewellery set I've ever seen. Seriously. Come by later tonight and I'll show you. You will NOT believe it_.

She texted Chandra quickly and dashed out, locking the box after taking out the white gold chain. She threaded it into the love heart shaped end of the key, and let it hang around her neck. It looked beautiful. She stashed the box in her room, and left her apartment.

She only just made it to Darcy's office in time, rushing in, practically falling off her feet.

"Sorry I'm late," she panted, as he looked up. She took a second to catch her breath, before walking into the office, trying to be composed. "I err… got a delivery," she muttered.

"I don't suppose you could to tell me what kind of delivery caused me to waste valuable time," he snapped. He had been very irritable of late, she guessed it was his guilt that he was about to separate Joan from the man she loved. He was even _more_ irritable than he had been on Friday morning.

"Umm… you don't want to know," she muttered. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well _now_ I certainly do," he said pointedly. She bit her lip.

"Well, ever since I was printed in _Clarity_, someone has been sending me things," she began nervously. "Really nice things," she continued. "Like dresses and shoes and perfume and tickets to the ballet, and… well, this morning I got a jewellery box, filled with things like diamonds and pearls and sapphires, if you saw it you would freak out, it must have cost thousands upon thousands of pounds, maybe a million or more," she babbled on. Darcy stared at her blankly.

"You _do_ realise that this person is probably stalking you," he pointed out. She scowled.

"Trust you to turn a good thing sour," she muttered pointedly. "I mean, I _know_ it's a little weird that he knows my sizes and tastes and everything, but I assumed that maybe he's talked to Collette or something, and she told him all my measurements, and he just guessed what I like," she shrugged. "See, I'm wearing the earrings, and the chain, and the key to the chest, and… ooh, these shoes came from him, and so did the ribbon, he always wraps the gift box in pink silk ribbon. And this charm bracelet too, it's perfect for me, that came from him," she informed him. "Oh, and this bag?" she said, holding it up. "Birkin. Got that last week," she informed him.

"Call the police. In the meantime, you need to sleep more, and start eating again," he snapped. She scowled, and then rolled her eyes.

"I'm only skipping meals because I'm stuck _here_, and I'm not sleeping well because I'm either working, or _thinking_ about work, and it's stressing me out! _And_ Clarity is getting me to work for her all the time too!" she added with irritation.

"Eaten breakfast yet?" he asked her, crossing his arms.

"Well, _no_, but that's because I was up late with Joan and a tub of ice cream, and this new gift turned up today," she explained, frowning.

"Come on then," he muttered, standing up. Loli frowned.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously.

"Making sure that you don't collapse at your desk," he snapped pointedly. She stepped back slightly. He sounded snarky. "Well come on, you seem to blame the fact that you're wasting away to nothing on me anyway, so let's go!" he urged her. She muttered something under her breath, and followed nervously as he led her out of his office.

"Sir?" questioned his secretary.

"I'm going out," he snapped.

Loli glanced back at Gretchen, who stared at her dumbly with her generic face. She bit her lip, and shrugged. Gretchen only looked more confused.

"So. This stalker. Does he leave a name or anything?" he asked her pointedly, as they got in the elevator.

"Uh… he always addresses me as 'Lolita', and signs things as 'Humbert', the main character of the book, Lolita," she explained.

"So he's the clever, 'I'm going to stalk you for several years', strategically developed, most likely peeping-tom stalker, not just your average rich admirer," he stated. "What kind of madman gives a girl a key as some sort of piece of jewellery?" he questioned, glancing at the chain that hung around her neck.

"Well, this isn't technically jewellery, but… it's really pretty, and I like it," she explained sheepishly. "It opens the jewellery box I got," she muttered.

He was doing this thing that he often did. He was snarly and bitter and cynical, never having _anything_ nice to say (which wasn't that unusual, although it was to a whole new extreme), and most of all, he seemed… frightening. He had looks and gazes and expressions and tones that seemed so powerful, intense, and hinting with danger, that it really did make her a bit wary of him.

He tapped his hand against the leg of his pants in impatience, staring at the numbers above the doors, lighting up as the descended down to the ground floor.

"The box plays a song."

She spoke suddenly, without being sure as to why she said it.

"It – it plays my favourite song. It's called 'Kiss the Rain' by Yiruma, the jewellery box plays it. And it has a little twirling ballerina that looks like me," she informed him. He stopped tapping, and turned his head.

"I like that song too."

For a moment, for the briefest moment, there was no irritation, or pride (which she noted he had in excessive amounts), no arrogance or anger or danger in his eyes, there was intensity, but of a completely different kind.

He looked…

Softer.

And then the doors to the elevator slid open, and they were back in the real world.

They crossed the street to the café Loli always got her coffee, and took a table inside. Darcy ordered for her, a cup of breakfast juice, and a plate of strawberries and yogurt, and just a coffee for himself.

"You don't have to do this, you know," she muttered. He glanced around the café nervously, as if afraid to be seen with her.

"I know," he replied simply.

Their order arrived a few minutes later, and Loli immediately dipped one of the strawberries in the plate of yogurt, before sipping her juice. Darcy leant over and took a strawberry himself, chewing on it slowly, thinking.

They didn't really say much over breakfast, Darcy asked her about her current commission, she told him about it, she asked him about her newest commission, he told her about it, and it went on.

They left the café, and headed back to the building a little while later, getting into the elevator in silence.

He looked like he was about to speak, when her phone sung its message tone. She pulled it out of her bag, and stared at the screen, before sliding it open, and writing a response to the text she had received.

"Hey, do you know a decent, non-fancy place to eat on this street?" she questioned him curiously.

"There's a bar a block down that serves decent food, depending on how much alcohol you or the proprietor have in-taken," he replied, with a shrug.

"Thanks," she replied, punching in a few more things, before sending the message.

"Who was that?" he asked her, unable to fight off his curiosity.

"Uh… a friend," she replied.

"Boyfriend?" he asked, but she shook her head. "Someone whose name you can't tell me?" he offered.

She bit her lip, and nodded. He stared at her for a moment, and then something suddenly dawned on him.

"James Wickham."

"We've just had dinner together a few times, I'm not dating him or anything, he's just an acquaintance," she explained quickly, not sure why she felt guilty. "But it really isn't any of your business," she added coolly.

Suddenly, Darcy moved forwards, and slammed his hand over the large red STOP button on the control panel, and the elevator came to a halt.

"I specifically asked you – I _told_ you not to go near him!" he cried angrily, not even facing her, leaning against the doors.

"You don't have a right to tell me what to do!" she snapped in response.

"I told you to _trust_ me! I told you to stay away from him! I told you that he was dangerous!" he shouted in response, his tone getting quite heated.

"What, he's a mass murder, and that's why he's free to walk the streets," she snorted sarcastically. "I don't need you to tell me what to do. I can look after myself," she snapped.

"_Evidently_ you can't!" he practically growled, turning around. His face was pale with anger, and… fear? He glared at her angrily, and she was inclined to think that perhaps _Darcy_ was the dangerous one at that moment. "Stay away from him. I'm _ordering_ you to," he demanded sharply.

"He's nice! He's funny and he's kind, he's my friend!" she responded hotly, her eyes narrowed. Darcy gave a bitter laugh.

"Your friend. Right," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I knew that you were young, but I didn't think you were so completely naïve," he added sharply. She scowled.

"You know, just because you're my boss doesn't give you the right to comment on my private life," she said coolly, folding her arms. "Because that's what it is. Private. It has _nothing_ to do with you – I'm twenty-one years old! I can look after myself, I'm not a child!" she cried.

"You've given me no evidence to suggest anything other than the contrary," he retorted pointedly. "The fact that you're dating one of Britain's most dangerous felons hardly swings you in any good favour," he added, his voice rising in volume once again.

"And why the hell should I believe you?" she snapped. "You say I should have trusted you? Well all I want to do is get to know this guy, hopefully he'll be a little bit clearer to understand than _some_ people I happen to know!" she cried pointedly.

"I'm your boss, Lolita. You have no obligation to understand me. You just do as I tell you, because in the end, I'm the one that signs your pay checks, and pays for your tiny apartment and take out meals," he snapped, turning back to the control panel, and starting the elevator once more. "I hope you two are happy together," he spat bitterly, not turning back to her.

Loli said nothing.

Was she actually _frightened_ of him, she thought? Sure, he was intimidating, but… did he scare her?

Sometimes, yes.

'_Have you noticed that sort of dangerous, commanding manner he has about him? Well, Fitz isn't the kind of man to accept 'no' for an answer. He's always in control of every situation, and I think you should simply be a little careful around him…_ _He's not a man to be trifled with, he knows what he wants, and he gets it. All I'm saying is be careful…_'

Clarity's words swum through her mind as the elevator doors slid open. She exited quickly, not looking back at Darcy.

**A/N: Review! Review! Review! Please, seriously, I live for reviews. Anything at all will make my day. Just a little smile emoticon :) or anything will make me so very happy :D**


	21. Secret let slip

**A/N: So I get the impression that you guys liked the last chapter? :D thank you so much for all the reviews, it was great to hear your opinions. I can't tell you who Humbert is yet, but I can assure you, it is **_**not**_** Colin. I wanted to add something to the story before I posted this chapter, but I've completely forgotten what it is… :S So remember to review again, and keep telling me what you think!**

"He's sort of… overpowering," Loli mentioned to Chandra later that night. She had just gotten back from dinner with Jamie, and was in her apartment with Chandra and Joan, discussing the day's events. "It's weird. Scary, almost," she continued thoughtfully, absent-mindedly running the string of pearls through her fingers as Chandra inspected every single piece of jewellery with a keen eye.

"He's sexy," Chandra commented, holding one of the diamonds up to the light. "That one's real too. At least eighteen carats," she informed her. "How you doing in there Joan?" she called loudly to the open door of the bathroom. Joan didn't have a bathtub in her apartment, just a shower, and decided to sit in Loli's for a while as they went through new possessions.

"I'm fine," Joan replied warmly.

"Like… Heathcliffe!" Loli declared suddenly. "Yes, he's just like Heathcliffe from Wuthering Heights."

"Yum. Ralph Fiennes," Chandra commented, moving on to one of the sapphire pendants, Loli making a small puking gesture at the notion. "Do you mean that dangerous, sexy, brooding look he's got?" she questioned, not even glancing over at her friend, who was now playing with the silk ribbons, wrapping them around her ankles mindlessly as she sat, cross-legged on the bed.

"Exactly," she replied. "And that's kind of what makes me think that maybe… what Jamie told me tonight about him is true," she added quietly. "I mean, I know that there was something fishy about Jamie, but it's not like Darcy is any easier to understand," she reasoned.

"What did he tell you _exactly_?" Joan asked from the bath. Loli took a breath.

"Well, I mentioned what McPosh had told me today, and then he sort of just… spilled out this whole story," she began, wringing her hands, recalling the evening.

She had gotten to the pub a little late, debating on whether or not she should actually go in. It was a little crowded when she finally pushed open the doors, and she got a lot of curious looks from people who recognised her, or thought they recognised her from _Clarity_, but she ignored them, heading over to the corner booth where she had arranged to meet Jamie.

"Hey," she greeted, sliding into the red leather seat, throwing her bag beside her. Jamie was nursing a pint of larger, and smiled warmly when she sat down, his white teeth practically twinkling at her as much as his dark eyes.

"Well now, I was worried you might not show," he replied teasingly, pushing his dark hair back, his usual ponytail abandoned. "I already ordered for you, apparently their vegetable frittas are really good, and a shot of vodka mixed with that fancy Italian soda you like," he informed her with a grin. She smiled uneasily. Some people thought that was thoughtful. She thought it was weird. She wondered if she would have been suspicious had she not spoken to Darcy earlier, and pushed it from her mind.

"Sounds good," she replied, trying to hide the awkwardness and doubt from her voice. He narrowed his eyes.

"_Someone_ has been talking to Darcy about me," he said slowly, his eyes locking onto her. She blushed slightly, and glanced around the room nervously.

"H – he got angry at me because I'm in contact with you," she threw out, after a pause.

"Your drink," announced a waitress, appearing as if from nowhere with a tray laded with all sorts of beverages. She took off a glass of reddy-pink lolly water and placed it in front of Loli, before smiling, and disappearing again. Jamie watched her through narrowed eyes, waiting until she had moved away before he spoke.

"That doesn't surprise me, to be perfectly honest," he replied simply, leaning back, and folding his hands. He evaluated Loli with his dark eyes. "He's very defensive. He must hate me for corrupting one of his favourite artists," he commented. Loli flushed slightly.

"I really doubt I'm his favourite – the guy practically admitted to that he hated me to my face," she replied, with a shrug. Jamie looked at her curiously for a moment, before continuing.

"We don't have the best history behind us. It's messy right now, but we're both involved in a custody situation, he's probably made me out to be a complete and total jackass," he commented, sipping his drink. Loli watched him carefully. He looked a little bit… shifty. After all, she hadn't known him for that long, how did she know that he was –

She stopped. She was only thinking that because of _Darcy_, the man who had maybe, perhaps had a hand in her sister's break up. If there was anyone she should doubt, it would be him.

"We go back a long way, you see," Jamie began. "We met in Eton, he was at the top of the social ladder, a few years older than me, and I was at the bottom. My parents had been scrimping and saving every penny since I was _conceived_ to send me to that school, for the Darcy family it was absolutely nothing," he explained. "But _somehow_ we became friends, and I spent a summer at Pemberley Manor, it was one of their _many_ estates all over the world," he informed her, before his expression became a little pained. "I went there for the summer for three years. Mister Darcy – Whitlam, he was a _very_ good guy. He loved me like a second son, and I suppose I didn't really see it, but maybe… well, maybe Whit was jealous," he muttered thoughtfully.

"Well if his father liked another boy just as much as him, then he probably would," Loli commented. "He's a selfish guy," she added, with a shrug. Jamie looked thoughtful.

"I don't know if you could call him selfish, maybe just confused," he replied. "He loved his mother very, very much. It killed him when she died, they were so attached, and then she just… well, she died in childbirth. So did the baby. Whit never got over it, and his father just sort of… fell apart," he explained. "He's not so bad, he really isn't, but he has a lot of problems," he tried to convince her. "I think that in a weird way, Mr Darcy just didn't love life anymore. He had lost the love of his life, and just looking at his children was a reminder of that," he explained to her.

"That must have been… horrible," Loli muttered quietly, feeling guilty.

"Gigi was only very small when it happened. Whit had to raise her by himself, he was only thirteen, fourteen, maybe fifteen, something like that, and the responsibility fell on him. He didn't want it at all," he continued, more pain returning to his features. "That's probably why he turned so self-destructive, I can't really tell you what unhinged him, but around about the same time that Mrs Darcy and the baby had died, my… err, my parents sort of… well, walked out on each other, and neither one wanted me to hold them down," he said, wincing at the memory.

"Jesus Christ Jamie, I'm so sorry," Loli muttered. "I know what that's like. Well, not to the degree that you do, but it does suck," she said comfortingly, patting his hand. He smiled softly.

"Yeah, it does," he mumbled, before straightening up. "I think that Mr Darcy had this giant void in his heart, and he wanted to fill it in with me. The way he looked at it was that I had lost everything, and so had he, so we could help each other," he explained. "So I moved in, he paid for Eton for me, he made a trust fund, everything suddenly _fit_ in my life, you know?" he said warmly. Loli smiled, but then his faded. "He died very unexpectedly. A fat embolism. There was no way of telling it was going to happen, or of fixing it," he said suddenly, sighing. "So when it came down to the will, I was forbidden from getting my trust fund, which had all of the money I needed for University, I was going to study business and work for the Darcy Empire, just like Mr Darcy had wanted me to, but _Whit_ revealed that he had hated me for years now, ever since I moved in," he informed her.

"What a man-bitch," Loli muttered. Jamie laughed.

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it," he smiled. "I understood. I mean, this guy had lost everything! He had a dysfunctional family life to begin with, his father and he never got along that well, but the man's death was just such a shock to us all," he explained. "I thought that maybe he needed time, but… well, I never got the trust fund. I doubt I ever will," he muttered.

"That's terrible! Can he even do that?" she questioned. Jamie shrugged.

"I couldn't afford a lawyer to fight my case, it just wasn't worth it," he replied, sipping his drink again. "So I moved to London. Got a job. Bought an apartment. Fell in love. Got engaged. Had a baby," he recited, with a soft smile to his features.

"It's good that you moved on!" Loli said brightly, warmth flooding her voice.

"With Georgiana Grace Darcy."

"Oh," she muttered. He nodded, his smile fading.

"Long story short, Whit was furious when Gigi told him that she was going to have a baby with _me_," he informed her. "So he took her away from me. I haven't seen my son since," he said quietly. "I know that his name is Callum, and I have a few pictures, he's five months old now," he said proudly, beaming. He pulled out his wallet, and opened it for her, showing a picture of a tiny, pink little thing with a tuft of fair hair. "That's him. Isn't he beautiful?" he said, still grinning madly. Loli smiled.

"He's going to be a real heart-breaker," she replied. He laughed in response.

"Yeah, he is," Jamie replied, before frowning. "But that son-of-a-bitch won't even let me see my baby. My kid. My _child_, just because he had a grudge against me," he muttered coolly. Loli was startled by the change in attitude. "But I'm going to get him back. I'm fighting for Callum's custody right now, and there isn't a chance in _hell_ that he's going to win, even _with_ his slimy tactics and bullshit artistry," he snapped. She looked on warily.

She didn't know _who_ to believe.

She recounted the story one more time to Chandra and Joan, telling them everything.

"The thing that got me was how he seemed to be so nice and understanding of McPosh, really sympathetic and everything, and then suddenly he was just… so _angry_," she muttered thoughtfully, as Chandra unhooked the charm bracelet from her arm to inspect it. "It's so _weird_," she added distractedly, her mind spinning.

"So are you sure you didn't hear _anything_ when Darcy was talking to that man in the elevator?" Joan questioned, stepping out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body tightly, another one rubbing her hair dry. Loli shook her head.

"All I know is that I was waiting for the elevator, and I heard arguing, but I couldn't pick anything up coming from inside. Then the doors opened, and Darcy was shouting with this big tall guy who I've never seen before, I think he might have said something like 'there is _no_ involvement', then he saw me, and he stopped talking. He looked really angry at me, and just left the elevator, pushing past me and walked right out of the building," she explained, frowning slightly. "The man apologised, said something about his friend feeling sick, looked at me weirdly, and then he left too," she added.

"I dunno, Loli, I think you may have walked into the middle of a conspiracy," Chandra commented, inspecting the set of pearls next.

Joan opened Loli's wardrobe and pulled out a pair of pyjama shorts and a cami, before grabbing a pair of underwear from a draw and disappearing again into the bathroom.

"I think that maybe you should ask Whit tomorrow, Loli," she called from behind the door.

"I don't really want to see him right now, to be perfectly honest," Loli muttered. "The more I think about it, the more likely it seems that McPosh would do something like that to Jamie. He always seemed sort of sick to me," she replied.

"You can't go around believing every sob-story you hear Loli, it could be that Jamie was just trying to get into your pants," Chandra mentioned wisely.

"I have no doubt that he was probably exaggerating some parts, but it does explain a fair bit," she pointed out.

"Other than the fact that Whit spoke to Jamie as if _he_ was the one who screwed up and tried to ruin lives, not himself," Joan commented, stepping back into the room. "And he told you to stay away from Jamie. Would he tell you to do that if he didn't think that the man was dangerous?" she added.

"I think he did that to test how much he can make me do," Loli responded pointedly. "He's always trying to prove just how much control he has over me – I think it was just another little game for him," she added. Chandra rolled her eyes.

"What _is_ it with you and being told what to do? Even if someone asked you _not_ to jump off a cliff, you'd go and do it just to prove that you don't take advice from other people!" she commented, snatching the ribbons away from Loli, and holding them all up to the light, comparing each and every one.

"_Hello_, I do things for Joan, _and_ I'm doing that doll thing too, you know," she retorted pointedly. "I'm not disobedient for the sake of being disobedient," she snapped.

"And tell me Loli, where were you supposed to be tonight?" Chandra questioned.

"Playing dress up with Clarity and Collette," she muttered quietly.

"And _why_ aren't you?" she asked with fake curiosity.

"Cos I blew her off," she mumbled.

"And why didn't you see your step mother yesterday, like she asked?" she continued.

"Because… I… told her to stuff it," Loli managed to get out.

"And you did that new website commission in pink and blue, didn't you, even though McPosh said he thought it should have been blue and black, didn't you," she then pointed out.

"Come off it, it's a website for _teenage girls_, blue and black was a stupid suggestion!" she protested.

"And you wore your Gucci dress from Humbert to Clarity's party the other night, even though she already set out an outfit for you," Joan threw in, with a small smirk.

"It looked great! Everyone was commenting on it, they all said it looked lovely!" Loli argued. "And I went to that party, like I was _asked_ too, by the way," she added coolly, before Chandra gave a snort of laughter.

"Yeah, because you couldn't be bothered to cook and you were hungry," she pointed out. Loli scowled.

"I don't always do what people tell me to do, okay? Is that so bad? It just means that I have free will," she replied in her own defence, as Joan fell back on her bed.

"Do we need to remind you how many times you told Collette to stuff it when you were at Netherfield?" she questioned teasingly.

"Oh, so I get it now, it's the bitch about Loli fest," she said in annoyance. Joan sighed.

"Loli, this is really very serious," she said patiently, looking up at her sister. "Whit called Jamie a dangerous felon. Why can't you just let your grudge on Whit go? It looks like he's just trying to help you, he seems genuinely concerned," Joan tried to convince her. Loli snorted, and rolled her eyes. "I'm serious. Loli – I don't know Whit that well, but we talk sometimes. If something happened to you, he would feel horrible, and you're just setting yourself up for something to happen," she explained.

"I'm so sick of him!" she cried in response. "He's always _there_, and – and he always makes me feel like I'm not doing good enough! And he's _constantly_ telling me what to do! How the hell am I supposed to act?" she questioned. Joan was silent.

"Alright, I've finished," Chandra said finally, breaking the tension as she put the last piece of jewellery down. Loli stopped grumbling, and Joan sat up. "You probably don't want to know how much this all cost," she said, waving her arm over the chest of draws.

"Just tell me," Loli demanded. Chandra sighed, and took a breath slowly.

"Let's just put it this way. That chest? It's an original Chippendale; only two of that particular make and model were ever built. That makes them very, _very_ rare, and _very_ exclusive," she informed her. "And all of this jewellery is custom made. As in, commissions. As in, lot's of money to have these made from design, not just shop bought," she explained. "And it's all the finest stuff, too," she added.

"Okay, maybe I _don't_ want to know how much it costs…" Loli muttered, feeling slightly ill. "This could probably feed a Third World country for a month," she sighed, looking at the chest.

"More like a year," Chandra muttered.

"We should hock it, and donate it to charity," Loli said, longingly stroking the rich wood of the box.

"Loli, you can't just sell this stuff. You just… _can't_," Chandra said firmly, placing a hand on her arm.

"But I can't just keep it! This is all so expensive! It's too – I don't deserve it!" she cried in argument.

"Loli, most of this stuff has Lolita and Humbert engraved on it. No one would want this. That novel was one of the most hated books in America for a very long time, and these days, it would look like your promoting it," Joan explained steadily to her. "And it's possible that these things are stolen, too. If we hear any reports of them being taken, we have to return them, Loli. We can't just sell them off, that's illegal," she continued. Loli clenched her hands.

"It was one thing with the dress, and the shoes, and the knickers, because they were made for _me_, they probably wouldn't fit anyone else, and the perfume and the bag and the tickets wasn't so bad, because they weren't so ridiculously expensive as this," she began steadily.

"Actually, that bag was Birkin. And the perfume was Chanel, you know," Chandra pointed out, ignoring Loli's annoyed glance.

"But _this_, it's not me. It can't be," she stressed. "This guy thinks I want these things! I don't!" she exclaimed. "Everything else was _made_ for me. This is jewellery. Anyone can have it," she tried to explain.

"_No_, Loli, this was made for you too," Joan responded. "Everything in this chest, even the _chest_, they're made for you. _Intended_ for you," she tried to convince her.

"How can I live with this stuff? I don't want it – I don't want expensive clothes and shoes and jewellery, I mean, I wear _jeans_ and _sneakers_, I eat take-out food, I'm not some sort of Princess!" she cried.

"Well, maybe you are," Chandra commented quietly. Joan and Loli both stared at her curiously. "I don't mean like, Princess Diary sort of crap, I mean, maybe to Humbert you're a princess," she explained sheepishly. "And is that so bad? I mean, I know this is really stalker-like and everything, but… if he's doing all of this for you, I think that he wants you to be treated like a princess," she continued.

"You have a point, you know," Joan commented, picking up one of the little tags that had been attached to one of the gifts. "See, this one says 'To Lolita, my Queen, from your loving servant, Humbert,'," she recited. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Can we just… put all of this stuff aside until I know what I want to do with it?" she asked. Chandra and Joan both shook their head.

"Not a chance," they said in union. Chandra carefully picked up the chest, and placed it on Loli's dresser. It looked perfect there. Loli stared at it wistfully for a moment, then sighed, and picked up the ribbons again, running them through her fingers.

She stared at the ends curiously.

"They've all been cut from the same reel," she commented, holding them together. They all fit together, end to end, like pieces of a puzzle.

"So?" Chandra questioned. "Loli, that just means that he used the same ribbon on each box," she countered.

"I know, I guess that…" Loli began, muttering. "I guess that I'm kind of looking for anything to help me explain who this guy it," she admitted.

"Well, we're all very curious," Joan pointed out. Loli sighed.

"Maybe one day he'll turn up with some sort of excuse as to why he's wasting all of his money on me," she muttered with a slight smile, as if laughing at herself.

"Well, lock your doors and windows, and just be careful," Chandra advised.

Loli sat back on the bed.

Someone else had already told her to be careful.

She pushed Humbert from her mind.

It was filled to the brim with the Darcy mystery.

**A/N: A little more intrigue :D Please review, I love hearing from you all, and feel free to ask many questions, I love to answer them :D**


	22. Crash and Burn

**A/N: So this one is a little more angsty, and I didn't want to have angst, but I decided to get it all over and done with in one chapter. Next chappie is more arguing with Darcy :D And we meet Clarkson! Yay!**

Sometimes in life we face changes.

Challenges, obstacles, blazing hoops and roaring lions, their mouths open wide, ready to swallow you up into their seemingly endless depths.

And some people faced these challenges and changes and blazing hoops and raging lions with courage and bravery, a firm set jaw and sharp, determined eyes.

Sometimes they kick and scream and fight, determined not to let the rest of the world get the better of them.

But sometimes, when the fires have been doused, the lions are asleep, and the dust has cleared, they crumple and fall like a little child.

Loli couldn't believe how quickly things had changed. And how horrible they had turned.

"Of course I don't love him. Why should I? But he's rich. And he's only going to get richer, and I'm only going to get older. He's offering me a nice home, nice things, and a new job. I'll leave him eventually. But for now, I need him, Loli."

"I know that this seems sudden, Loli, but this is what I want! My own photography studio – doesn't it sound lovely? I know that moving to America is a bit drastic, but I can manage, I just know I can. There's a six month course there on running your own studio – so it'll only be a little while! Clarity doesn't really need me, she can find another photographer, and I feel _so_ guilty for making you model for her – I've been terrible Loli. This is my life, I'm _not_ doing this to get over Caleb, I'm doing this because I need to. It's only temporary. Once I've finished the course, I'll come back and start the studio, I swear."

"Hey Loli, sorry to catch your machine – but I can't stay in London anymore. It's three months until the appeal, I'll be back soon. Just – don't worry, Loli, I really like spending time with you, but I have to go. I have to do this. It's for the best, it was either me or him, and I guess that… well, maybe he won. Maybe this is just easier for everyone. But if I want to get Callum back I need some time to think. I'll see you around."

"Hello there Moon! Just thought I'd tell you that I'm leaving Fanny. Maybe forever, maybe not. Not for any particular reason, I just felt like it was time, you know? I'm going for another little trip, not sure where, and… I'm not sure when I'll get back, so I guess…. Well, I'll see you when I see you!"

She leant against the wall, sliding down slowly, her fists clenched and eyes watering. She gave a short, bitter sob, before silent tears fell quickly down her cheeks.

It only took a few conversations and two messages on her answering machine to completely turn her life upside down. To change everything.

Joan was gone.

Chandra was gone.

Jamie was gone.

Her father was gone.

How could all of this happen? She took a day off work – _one day_, just to spend a little extra time with Joan, and then suddenly… everything was just heaped onto her shoulders. Everything had changed.

She was angry. She was angry with Chandra for being such a complete and total bitch – she _hated_ Colin, how did they even know each other? She supposed that when Colin had rung her, asking something ridiculous like for her to move in with him or something, and she had rejected him so thoroughly, he had turned to the nearest woman to renew his broken confidence. But Chandra had _admitted_ that she didn't love Colin, that she didn't even like him! That she was simply taking advantage of his money! She knew that Chan had been having a few financial issued of late, but was she that desperate?

And Joan. Dear, sweet, beautiful Joan, who's heart had been broken into a million pieces. America was going to be her rebound. She was desperate to start again, but Loli couldn't help but feel she was doing the wrong thing. Uprooting her life just so that she could try and forget what happened? It made no sense, it was just wrong.

Jamie.

He had gone too. It made her furious with Darcy – _he_ was the reason that Jamie had left, Jamie was just trying to be the bigger man and let Darcy have his way until the trial, and she _knew_ that she shouldn't feel upset about it, Jamie was just a friend, but she needed someone, _anyone_ to talk to right now, to see, to have standing right in front of her, not listening to their cool, metallic voices over a phone line. She had Jamie had became friends, _good_ friends, and now, because of her uptight boss he was leaving? It made her furious.

But then again… she couldn't help but feel the words '_dangerous felon_' buzz around in the back of her head. She hadn't even considered that Jamie might not be who he said he was, but was his leaving a sign that maybe Darcy had something of the truth to his claims? She was _so_ angry with Darcy, but he made her feel like a little child he was scolding. Perhaps, she thought, she should have listened to him, instead of Jamie.

She shook her head violently. She had wanted to hear both sides of the story. She didn't know Darcy's, was that a sign that he didn't really have the best part in it? That perhaps he was ashamed?

But the burning feeling in her mind was searing through. She felt like she had something terribly, terribly wrong. She wanted her father, she wanted him to be there for her, so that she could tell him her troubles, so that she could find a way out of this mess she had landed herself in.

She wiped her face, and rose to her feet with haste. Grabbing her purse, she dashed out of her apartment with haste, and hailed a cab.

"Hertfordshire, please," she said quickly to the driver, before they began to speed off into the night.

She just hoped she would be in time to see her him.

"He's not here," Fanny said in a bitter, tear choked voice when she greeted her stepdaughter at the door. "I've tried calling his office too, he's not there either. He packed up and left with barely a word to us," she practically spat. Loli didn't want to cry. She really didn't want to.

"D – do you know when he's going to get back?" she asked quietly, her voice strained. Fanny folded her arms defensively against her chest, and glared down at her.

"No. I don't," she replied coolly. Loli nodded softly, and rubbed her eyes with her fist.

"Umm… o – okay," she muttered quietly, and turned around, walking back up the garden path, where the taxi was waiting patiently. She slid into the back seat, tears falling quickly.

"Where to now?" the driver asked, glancing at her in his rear view mirror.

"I – uh – L – London, I guess," she muttered through watery eyes, leaning forwards on the seat, and pushing her hair back from her face, rationing her breathes.

She had felt so furious, so hideously, horribly _angry_, and now, now…

She wasn't the kind of girl that cried normally. She was the kind of girl that ripped bandaids off quickly, trying to hide her winces and cries of pain from onlookers. She was the kind of girl that ground her teeth in fury when she was twelve, and broke her arm, rather than scream in pain. She was the kind of girl that slammed doors and punched walls and did _anything_ other than let people see she was in pain.

But sitting in the backseat of a taxi, heading back home after a fruitless drive to hopefully catch her father before he disappeared again for an unknown period of time, she was crying. Miserably. Maybe Darcy had been right, maybe she _was_ a child.

"Err – are you okay?" the driver asked, when he stopped outside her apartment after Loli had paid him. She turned back with a soft smile, pulling her coat closer around her body.

"Yeah, I – I'm just alone now, that's all," she shrugged. "I'll manage though. I've been alone before," she said, sighing, and then giving another quiet smile. "Thanks," she muttered, before turning to her apartment building, and stepping towards it.

She could handle it.

Because she was the kind of girl that would slam a door, not cry.

**A/N: Okay, please review :D I love reviews so very, very much, so giving them to me makes me a happy chappy :D**


	23. In your arms I feel at home

**A/N: So this is so far one of my favourite chapters, not only because of the Loli/Darcy interaction, but of the realisations that Loli faces. She realises in this chapter how immature she's being, and whilst she doesn't start to correct herself quite yet, she's certainly growing up a bit.**

With morning came another fresh feeling of anger. She wanted to punch Darcy out. He was the reason that Jamie had left! And how dare he yell at her in the elevator! He had no right! She wasn't going to mope around, sure, everyone had left her, but that was no excuse to stop functioning.

She didn't take her usual care in getting dressed that morning. She pulled on her dark blue skinny bootleg jeans and a baggy band shirt she had when she was sixteen, pulling her hair up into a loose messy bun and grabbed a leather jacket, and a pair of Jimmy Choos that she still hadn't returned to Joan. She didn't bother with much makeup, a bit of moisturiser and some blood red lipstick. She looked pulled together, jumbled and a bit messy, not the calm, cool, refined and professional girl that everyone in the building expected. She grabbed a handbag, a plain black one with no ribbons or lace, and swung it around her shoulder, before walking out of her apartment.

She pulled a pair of dark sunglasses on to hide her shadowed, bloodshot eyes (for once not from a night of heavy drinking) and stepped into the street. After grabbing a cup of coffee and a ridiculously large chocolate muffin she was in the elevator, staring up at the little numbers, waiting until they reached the top floor.

She wondered if she would slap him. Kicking would make her feel a whole lot better, and scratching his eyes out would only be a plus. She thought on this as she stepped out of the elevator, and into Gretchen's office space. She sat behind her desk, her platinum blonde hair pulled up as tight as ever, matching the cool, sharp and decidedly modern edges and colouring of the room.

"Hey there Gretchen, how's it hanging?" she asked in an upbeat manner. Gretchen only rolled her eyes behind her black framed glasses.

"Perfectly fine, Miss Lolita," she replied snappishly, turning back to her computer with disinterest. Loli pulled off her jacket and let it hang over her arm, coffee still in hand as she pushed open one of the doors to Darcy's office.

"Sir," she greeted stiffly, closing the door. Not for the first time he looked somewhat dishevelled, she was beginning to suspect something was going on between him and his forty-something year old blonde in the entrance. His hair was in disarray, his tie loosened and sleaves pulled up, his eyes puffy from a lack of sleep. But somehow, disgustingly, he still looked dignified.

"Miss Gardiner," Darcy replied, coolly. "You took a day off yesterday," he stated, looking her up and down, taking in her somewhat careless appearance.

"Women's problems," she retorted, rolling her eyes, and taking a seat. Darcy shifted uncomfortably.

"I was in the understanding that a menstrual cycle doesn't prohibit someone from sitting behind a desk," he responded coolly.

"_Obviously_ you don't have one then," she snapped angrily. He blanched slightly, but the cool, proud glint returned to his eyes.

"They have pills for your kind of attitude issues, you know," he informed her pointedly.

"And they have rubber walls for yours," she retorted. His eyes narrowed.

"Maybe you should have stayed home today. It seems like you're still suffering the ill-effects of your so called 'women's problems'," he said coldly.

"Well what's your excuse then?" she questioned with growing irritation.

"Unfortunately men can't pin a shitty mood as a direct result of a hangover down to a period," he snapped. "Are you going to stop acting like a ten year old and cut the crap, or do I _actually_ have to send a note home to your parents, informing them that you don't play nice with other children?" he asked her coldly.

"Depends, will you write the note with the ten foot pencil you jammed up your backside?" she retorted angrily. "And I do _not_ have a hangover!" she added.

"Then why the hell are you wearing sunglasses inside?" he questioned snappishly. She ripped them off.

"There. You happy? Another thing in my life you could assume control over!" she cried.

"What do I care, you'll only get another pair from your obsessed stalker and prance through magazine pages wearing them!" he responded, his eyes narrowing once more.

"Not if you ask me not to _sir_, because I wouldn't want to do anything to upset you, like actually _enjoy_ my life!" she cried.

"Don't you _dare_ show any disrespect to me Lolita – need I remind you once _again_ that you are _my_ employee, and _I _am your boss?" he questioned angrily.

"That's right, remind me again. Because it's not like you do that every ten seconds anyway!" she snapped, turning her head to face the window, and crossing her arms.

"You've been walking into this office everyday, acting like you can do as you please, socialising with complete and total _scoundrels_, you're acting immaturely and irresponsibly. And when are you going to grow up and stop wasting your time being photographed, just because _you_ can't work up the courage to tell your molly-coddling stepsister that you don't want to be a model?" he cried irately, glaring at her with flashing eyes.

"Well I guess that problem is solved now, isn't it!" she cried, reeling her head back to face him. She wished she hadn't taken off her sunglasses, so he couldn't see her watering eyes. "Because now that molly-coddler is _leaving_ to live in America for six months, so I guess she won't be around to make me do that!" she cried, blinking away more angry, stinging tears.

"And in case you're concerned, my best friend is running away to live with your _Aunt's_ accountant, so _she_ won't be able to force me to do anything either!" she snapped, running a hand through her hair angrily, and leaning forwards, before continuing in a choked voice.

"Jamie? He's not a problem, is he? You scared _him_ away very effectively, so you won't have to lecture me about inappropriate socialisation in the future," she cried, standing up, and nervously moving about the room, not sure of what to do, pulling at the hem of her shirt and biting her lip in a failing attempt to stop the tears streaming over her face.

"In fact, don't bother writing a note to my father, because _he's_ walked out again too – so really, I doubt I'll have anything _better_ to do these days than _sit around_, doing just as you tell me, so feel free to give me another order, _Mister Darcy_, just make sure I'm working all by myself, because I seem to have a tendency to make people disappear these days!" she cried finally, turning sharply and pressing her forehead against the wall, hitting it with her palm as hard as she could, before leaning against it, her body wracking with angry sobs.

Loli had never felt so ashamed of herself. She had let everything get to her. She was stronger than that. Why was everything so hard all of a sudden? She felt like an angst-ridden teenager, bursting into tears the moment that things got rough. It was just… everything had happened all at once. Several cataclysmic events, which by themselves would bring a weaker person to their knees had all happened to her at once. And she didn't even know why she was angry at Darcy. What had he done? Sure, she didn't like him, but she didn't have any evidence that he had done anything wrong.

She felt so guilty. She _had_ been behaving like a spoilt little brat, all she could think about was herself! She came barging into that office, snapping at Darcy just because she wanted to take her anger out on something! He was a bit of a prick, yes, but did he deserve that? Did he deserve her treating him like complete crap for seemingly no reason? She felt ashamed of the way she had acted. She had always been stubborn, but now she was starting to think that having the rug pulled out from under her feet was a sign – she should have valued her friends and family whilst they were there, with her, instead of pining their loss. She felt so… _ridiculous_.

She felt like a child.

"A – and _now_ I've just fallen to pieces in my boss' office, as if I wasn't having a shit enough day already!" she cried angrily, trying to unsteadily steady herself back onto her feet.

She felt large, strong hands wrap around her waist, steadying her, and a tissue box being pressed into her hand.

"I can walk," she managed to get out angrily, and yet Darcy still pulled her through the office, into the non-working part, with the kitchen, bathroom and entertainment room. She found herself being forcibly sat down on what appeared to all intents and purposes to be a bed in what looked like a small bedroom, still clutching the tissue box. Darcy sat on the edge of the bed.

"Stay here for a little while. You don't have to work today," he muttered. Loli took a tissue out of the box with shaking hands, and wiped her eyes with it, thankful that she hadn't put on eyeliner and mascara that morning, or she would most certainly have panda eyes.

"Sorry," she muttered, but she was still angry with him. He shook his head.

"Don't." he replied simply. "Please." he added, after taking a long, deep breath. Loli wondered if she had ever heard him say please before in any one of their conversations, and for the life of her, she could not remember such an occurrence. She vaguely remembered him asking her to leave his office before, but that was the extent of it.

"No, sorry. Really," she managed to get out, feeling the need to apologise, and to explain her actions, even though he was still pissing her off, sitting there in all of his perfection, practically mocking her. "I shouldn't have heaped all my problems on you, it was wrong," she continued. He sighed, and leaned back a little, the wall pressing against his spine, his long legs dangling over the side of the bed.

"From the looks of it, you don't have anyone else to heap it on right now," he said quietly. "So… just pretend that I'm not your boss. I'm someone you know," he requested, turning to look at her. She tucked her legs up to press her knees beneath her chin, and wiped the last of the tears from her eyes. She didn't want to look at him. There was something in his eyes that she didn't want to see. "Lolita, look at me," he said clearly, his voice braking her musings. She slowly glanced over at him.

"I can't just pretend you're my friend. You're my boss," _and the man that probably broke my sister's heart, not to mention Jamie's_, she thought to herself, before inwardly scolding herself and returning her gaze to her shoes.

He pulled her towards him very easily, and gently, until her back was leaning against his chest, his chin atop her head. His arm was carelessly wrapped around her waist in a state of casual friendship, or affection.

"So Chandra is going to live with my Aunt's accountant," he stated to begin with. Loli slowly relaxed, she had to admit; there was a very soothing quality about him.

"Yeah," she nodded quietly. "She doesn't even like him. But he was always following me around, and trying to get _me_ to move in with him, so I guess maybe she wanted that attention," she muttered.

"She won't be happy," Darcy commented. "She can't possibly be happy there. I feel sorry for her," he added quietly. "And your father?" he questioned softly. Loli shrugged.

"He's always doing this. Leaving, I mean," she began. "He did it a lot when I was a kid, that's why I was with my Mum most of the time," she explained. "I don't know where he's gone, how long he'll be there, or if he's ever coming back. He never tells me, he just turns up one day and expects everything to be back to normal," she continued bitterly.

"But he always comes back, Lolita," he reminded her. "I'm not justifying it, a man like that doesn't deserve to have a child to look after," he commented, as Loli frowned.

"He's my father," she stated. Darcy tightened his grip on her slightly.

"Then he should show it," he replied pointedly. Loli turned her head away from him. "What'll you do now?" he asked her quietly, after a short pause. She shrugged.

"I'll stand by Chandra, support Joan, wait for Dad and forget Jamie," she replied after a little while. "And hopefully grow up in the meantime," she added bitterly.

"You're being too hard on yourself."

"No, Whit, I'm not, and you know it," she snapped. "Joan was right; I refuse to do things for the sake of it. Maybe I can learn to fend for myself for a little while," she added. Darcy sighed, staring at her intently. Too intently for her comfort.

"Just try and get some sleep," he muttered quietly, and said no more, simply holding him against her chest. She felt so… strange, having him so near. It was so awkward, but so comfortable at the same time. It was like they fit together. She couldn't help but resent him, he had insulted her and her family, he was cold and aloof and rude and demanding beyond all belief, but he was just so… _there_.

She blinked her eyes once, twice, and when she opened them again, it was after sleeping for a good five or six hours. She tiredly rose to her feet, and rubbed her eyes, stinging slightly. She looked around, trying to recall what had happened, and where she was. It all came flooding back to her with an embarrassing twinge. She winced at the memory, and stumbled to the light switch.

The room wasn't very big; it had only a bed and a little night table next to it. She supposed that he sometimes slept there; when he had been working so late that there was no point in going home. She knew that he managed the rest of his empire from that office, so she didn't doubt that there was plenty of work for him to do. She pulled the door open, and turned off the light, stepping into the entertainment room. She looked around curiously, wondering why a man needed a wide screen TV in his office.

She continued through the office, noticing its features, and wondering how rich and important one needed to be to own an office like the one she stood in. The day was slightly darker outside, as compared to the almost blinding sunlight she recalled from that morning.

"You're awake," she heard someone say. She turned quickly. She only just recognised the man sitting behind Darcy's desk as the same man in the elevator the other day, he was tall and lean, with a sort of professor-ish look about him. He even wore tweed. His face had a sort of greyish, drained and tightened look about it, and his greying hair was brushed and oiled back from his face.

"I don't know who you are," Loli muttered, frowning at him slightly, wondering if she had met the man before in her life.

"My name is Robert Clarkson. I'm Mister Darcy's head of Private Security… for the Darcy Empire – and for him and his family," he replied simply, with slight hesitation, folding his hands in his lap. "You're Lolita Moonbeam Grace Starchild Gardiner – Main Illustrator of the Graphical Illustration department of Darcy Designs," he recited.

"Can you pull a bunny out of a hat too?" she asked nervously, edging away from the mysterious man, whose eyes were trained on her.

"Mister Darcy had something he needed to do. He has requested that you take some time off as soon as it is convenient to you, and also advised that you talk to a counsellor, the company will cover the charges," he informed her coolly.

Loli bristled in annoyance.

"Tell your boss that I'm fine, and he doesn't need to try and control my life any more than he already has," she snapped. "What are you even doing here anyway?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"I was here to discuss something with Mister Darcy. He requested that I remain here until you awake," he informed her, in complete and total monotone. Loli crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow.

"You know, I was majoring in phycology for about six months until I changed my mind to become an artist," she informed him, looking at him with firm gaze. "So I picked a few things up. Number one – Darcy could have asked his secretary to wait, because she was here anyway. Number two – Darcy had a pile of paperwork as tall as this building on his desk when I came in, so he was probably going to be busy all day, so it doesn't make sense that he's not here, doing that work," she said thoughtfully, glancing around the room. "Number three – you said that you're head of Darcy's Private Security, but you said that last, and kind of reluctantly. You don't just tell people that you head private security over an individual, because that would mean that they need protecting from someone. Which means you had a specific _reason_ for telling me that you head his individual security, but the reluctance was more… guilt, so Darcy doesn't want _me_ to know that he needs individual protection for some reason," she stated.

Clarkson's eyes narrowed.

"Number four – you don't look pissed to be here. You should be pissed, because it's the equivalent of babysitting, really, which means that there's a reason for you to be here," she continued. "And finally, last but not least, there was a post-it on the coffee pot in the kitchen for me from Darcy, telling me to just let myself out. So that means that Darcy doesn't know you're here, and you're here to tell me something," she finished.

Clarkson raised an eyebrow, and let a tiny smirk flicker over his lips.

"He told me you were clever beyond your years, but I hardly suspected to this degree," he commented. "You're in the wrong line of work. You should be working for me, not drawing pictures," he added. Loli smirked.

"I can tie my shoe laces and everything," she threw in sarcastically. "So why are you here, when Darcy doesn't know you are?" she questioned curiously, taking a seat opposite the man before the desk.

"There is a security situation that Darcy doesn't want me to alert you to," Clarkson began. "He hasn't even been informed of all of the circumstances. There's next to nothing that I can tell you about the situation. All I can do is advise you to leave the country as soon as you possibly can, and do not return unless it is absolutely necessary," he said warningly.

Loli blinked, and frowned.

"Why? I – is it just me? Who else has to leave too?" she questioned in confusion.

"Just you," he replied. Loli's mind was reeling.

"W – what? Why?" she asked hurriedly. "Why me?"

"I can't tell you, I'm afraid," Clarkson answered. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Why, if you tell me will you have to kill me?" she asked sarcastically. Clarkson sent her a warning look.

"Possibly," he answered.

That shut Loli up.

"B – but where do I go?" she questioned in confusion.

"Anywhere but England, America or Japan," he replied. Loli frowned once more.

"You know, I'm inclined to think that perhaps –"

"Miss Gardiner, I am doing my very best to keep you alive. Mister Darcy is doing his very best to keep you alive. In order for us to continue, you _need_ to cooperative," he stressed firmly. "We have arranged for you to be able to submit your work through email, so you won't be out of work whilst you are away," he informed her. "You will be sent your assignments daily, as usual, and you will be contacted when it is completely safe for you to return to England," he explained.

"Well what if I don't _want_ to leave England?" snapped Loli irritably.

"Miss Gardiner, you are in a very dangerous situation. We have received death threats regarding you. If you want _any_ hope of safety, you will leave England. You will tell no one but those who need to know. And for once in your life, you will _do as you are told_," he finished firmly. Loli bitterly chewed on her tongue.

"I don't suppose you can tell me who has –­" she began, but Clarkson shook his head.

"I can't tell you who is making the threats," he answered.

"I'm a model for Clarity Bingley. She won't like this," she informed him coolly. Clarkson smirked.

"We've spoken to Clarity. I believe she has found some sort of angle to take your disappearance from, and has enough photos of you to stock her magazine until next year," he informed her.

"My stepmother and three younger sisters live in England. I would like to be able to see them," she added. She was lying, she didn't care about them, just as they didn't care about her, but she was desperately trying to find a way out of the situation she was in.

"I've done a two year course in lie detection, Miss Gardiner," Clarkson levelled. Loli frowned pointedly.

"Fine. I'll leave in a month," she snapped. Clarkson opened his mouth to argue, but she held up her hand. "My best friend packed up her bags and moved to France today. She asked me to come and visit her in a month. I can't stay with my mother right now, they're renovating their house. I don't know where my father is anymore, my sister is moving to America in a day or two, and you've forbidden me from going there. All my other friends are in Tokyo, and I can't visit them because I'm not allowed to go to Japan," she said, running through her options.

"You don't have anyone else?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"No one that I trust enough," she replied coolly, folding her arms.

"Your record indicated that you were involved with one of your Professors in University, and that he now resides in Germany. Could you not live with him?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Loli stumbled with her footing for a moment.

"Because of _me_, he was jailed for _six months_, and was put on probation until a year ago. I doubt that he wants anything to do with me ever again," she snapped. "And don't you _dare_ presume that you can try and ship me off to live with a man that I haven't seen for years just because it suits your little plan!" she cried angrily. "Now I'm doing a lot for you – uprooting my life for God knows why, so if you _want_ my cooperation, it's going to be on _my_ terms," she snapped.

"One month it is then," he replied coolly. Loli glared at him angrily, and controlled her breathing.

"What would have happened if you hadn't told me to leave?" she asked. Clarkson shrugged.

"Darcy assumed that you would be willing to take the time off," he replied. Loli rolled her eyes. "From what he has told me of you, I knew that it was very unlikely, so I decided to stay here for a little while," he informed her. Loli nodded slowly, and reached for her purse and sunglasses, which were sitting on the couch. She slid the sunglasses on, and pulled on her jacket.

"I – I've been getting these weird gifts," she muttered, turning around on her way to the door. Clarkson looked up.

"What kind of weird gifts?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers.

"Well, really expensive ones, like designer clothes and bags and shoes and perfume, and jewellery and ballet tickets and lingerie," she explained. "They're all signed from someone called Humbert, the protagonist in the novel Lolita," she continued, looking a little nervous. "And they're very specific. I mean, the sizes are perfect, they're in my favourite colours, they're delivered to my address, that sort of stuff," she added.

"Are they causing you any alarm?" he asked her, still in monotone. She shook her head. "And you say that you don't know who they're from?" he questioned.

"Not a clue," she replied. Clarkson nodded, and looked thoughtful, before a slight look of realisation dawned upon him, and he gave a small smile.

"Don't worry, they're perfectly safe," he smiled. Loli nodded.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Clarkson's smile grew slightly.

"Oh yes, I have a strong suspicion, and if you don't mind me saying, I'm very rarely wrong," he informed her. "And besides. We've been screening your mail for the last month, so if anything dangerous came in, we would know," he added. She gave a tiny smile and shook her head in amusement, before slipped out of the office to the sound of Clarkson laughing softly.

She stepped out into the street, her mind blocked up with so much confusion. She took a deep breath, and headed home.

**A/N: So what did you think? A bit of danger, not to mention some more Loli/Darcy banter, and some sweetness in there too :D And yes, Loli called Darcy 'Whit', remember that now please :D So a few people were commenting that Loli is a difficult character to like, and yes, she is. But she gets better, and Darcy gets worse, so bear with me. Darcy gets better in the end too, by the way. Lol. I love you all. PLEASE REVIEW!!! :D I love reviews so very much :D**


	24. Goodybye England

**A/N: Hmmm, can't think of anything to say here. Ah well. Read ahead!**

Loli couldn't help but think that she had never felt safer, more at home, than she had felt in her boss' arms.

She was lying on her smiling couch, wrapped up in a fluffy pink blanket, Ryan Adams and the Cardinals blaring out of her stereo speakers. She had just come back from her stepmother's house, she hadn't felt like being alone so decided to endure her younger sisters for the night.

That had been a big mistake.

The moment she pulled open the front door she was completely bowled over by the strong scent of Brittany Spears _Fantasy_ and the sound of the latest Chris Brown album coming from every speaker set in the house, clashing horribly with Mya's out of tune bashing at the piano, and Fanny's high-pitched singing.

She cautiously walked into the lounge room, where her stepmother and two thirds of the triplets sat on the couch, not only listening to Chris Brown, but also watching _Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging_ on the widescreen TV, magazines strewn all over the floor, makeup, nail polish, facial kits and hair rollers sitting atop them, a pizza box and a few bottles of Vodka Cruisers littering the room.

Fanny, Lindsay and Kayte all sat on the floor, legs crossed as they sipped their drinks, nibbled on the pizza, gabbed about some celebrity or other and painted their toe-nails.

"Loliiiiiiiiiii!" Lindsay squealed happily, the moment she looked up. Her eyes seemed a little out of focus.

"Fanny, they're _fifteen_ and you're letting them drink?" Loli exclaimed, glaring at her stepmother, who sniffed petulantly.

"It's just lolly water, Loli," she snapped pointedly. "Did you know you're in this magazine?" she asked, holding up what looked like _Marie Claire_ with a little giggle. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Fanny, this is _illegal_, not to mention bloody stupid," she said sternly.

"I _like_ it Loli, you're such a _tight-arse_!" scowled Kayte. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Did you know that alcohol makes you really fat? It's _filled_ with carbs," she informed her. Kayte and Lindsay both turned pink.

"Bleugh!" they cried in union, pushing the bottles away and scraping their tongues. Loli hid the urge to laugh, and ignored her scowling stepmother as she picked up the empty bottles.

"Let's give Loli a makeover! We have blonde hair dye, Loli!" Lindsay cried gleefully, as Fanny's eyes suddenly shone like headlights.

"That sounds _great_!" she cried gleefully, clapping her hands together. "Ooh and I can get back at that _Leda Lucas, _the little tramp!" she continued. Loli gathered up the last of the bottles and empty boxes of pizza.

"Clarity would kill me," she snapped.

"Oooh, you're _right_!" Kayte squeaked. "For _once_!" she giggled. Fanny and Lindsay joined in, screeching with laughter and clutching their chests. They were practically rolling on the floor as Loli left the room and headed into the kitchen, putting all of the bottles in the recycling bin and getting three large glasses of water for them. They were still laughing when she handed them the cups, before she left the room, disgusted at her stepmother's behaviour.

"Did you know that they're drinking in there?" she questioned Mya, stepping into the unused formal dining room, a beaten up old piano sitting against the wall, the dark-blue headed form of the closest thing to a sane person in that house bashing at it with force.

"Yes," Mya replied simply, moving up an octave and continuing to hit the keys at random, trilling (or at least attempting to) with entirely the wrong combination of notes.

"And you didn't think to try and stop them?" she questioned incredulously.

"I don't give a shit if they all rot their livers, they can crawl in a ditch and die for all I care," Mya replied simply. "I'd rather read a book. Have you read Edgar Allen Poe? He's a genius. Almost as good as Stephanie Myer," she questioned.

"_Mya_, they're your sisters! That's your mother in there!" she cried.

"Since when did _you_ care?" she asked, turning around sharply. "I hate them all. You're Miss Perfect, and I have to put up with _those_ screwballs," she snapped. "I don't give a _damn_, and they don't give a damn about _me_, so we just don't talk to each other, okay? They can go screw themselves," she elaborated pointedly. "You'd do the same," she added coolly, turning back to the piano.

Loli wondered if that were true. Would she have done the same?

_Probably_, a voice answered.

But Mya didn't have to end up like her, she decided.

"Don't hate them. Yes, they're pathetic, but in the end you're going to come out better because you had to get over all of them, and you'll be grateful for them being such screw ups, because you'll be tougher for it," she replied. "Get a job, finish school, go to college, move out, and have a life. Don't just sulk and beat up that piano," she advised, before turning heel, and leaving.

So now she was tucked up on the couch, music so loud that her ears were practically bleeding, wondering when she had decided that growing up wasn't going to be an option. Was it because of her obsession with Lolita that she refused to fully join the adult world?

She groaned into her kawaii couch. She didn't feel like thinking. She felt like sleeping. She felt like falling asleep, wrapped up in a warm, comforting embrace, her head pressed against his chest, the scent of expensive cologne and something slightly citrus-like lulling her into a state of dreaminess…

She hated herself for it, but she wanted Darcy to be the one comforting her.

"I swear to God, I'm going to find that kid, and murder him," was the first thing that Loli screamed when she got off the plane in the Riviera, her expression murderous, furiously flashing eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, looking very alien in the stylish airport filled with rich and powerful men and women, wearing a pair of baggy, raggedy jeans, pink flip flops, an oversized grey shirt with the cover of The Beatles – Abbey Road over the bust, her hair pulled into a lose and messy bun.

"Good to know you haven't changed," Chandra laughed as her friend approached. She wrapped her arms around her warmly, holding her close to her chest.

"Sorry to break up our reunion, but I _seriously_ have to cause this kid some irrevocable damage," Loli muttered, pulling away from her best friend, looking around the small airport murderously. "Where's Colin. I can hurt him too so I can get the edge off," she added, an evil smirk overcoming her features.

"Uhh… I don't think I should really give you his location, because it might be endangering his life, but he's getting the car," Chandra replied, trying to fight the grin on her lips.

"Oh, you look great, by the way," Loli threw in, glancing back at Chandra, who had lost a little bit of her excess weight, and changed her hair into a nice straight cut bob in chocolate brown. She wore dark skinny leg jeans and a black sweater, looking very chic and sophisticated.

"Colin lets me use his credit cards. So why are we trying to kill some kid?" she asked curiously, glancing around the airport.

"Because when the little bastard _wasn't_ kicking my chair or throwing bits of peanuts at me over the seat, he was playing his little gameboy with the volume turned up to ridiculous highs, stealing my cookies, and _drawing_ in _markers_ all over my bag!" she cried, holding up the once glorious piece of beauty from Birkin, which now had a picture of a cat, some sort of thing that could have been a truck, and something similar to a pokemon.

"Oh my god, the baby! He drew on the baby?" she cried in fury, wheeling her head around. "Where is he? I'm going to kill him, then make his Mum pay for a new one!" she cried. "And she had better get the limited edition one _just_ like this – or else!" she threatened.

"Actually, it'll come off with warm water, but it's the _point_ of the matter, that little piece of scum deserves extreme pain for causing _me_ extreme pain the whole flight," she hissed in return. "Besides, I was in coach. No one in coach can afford a Birkin bag," she pointed out in annoyance.

"_You_ have a Birkin bag," Chandra pointed out.

"That's just because I have an obsessive stalker," she shrugged. "And I somehow doubt that Humbert rides in coach. He probably has his own plane," she pointed out.

"Did you get this kid's name?" Chandra asked curiously.

"Ignatius Nigel Finchley," she replied. "He had some sort of collar and leash attached to him, with a nametag," she explained, still looking around the terminal with a narrowed gaze.

"Oh, honey, no one with that kind of name deserves us beating up on him," Chandra said, placing a hand on her friend's arm. "Sweetie, the poor thing has probably suffered enough," she added. Loli sighed miserably.

"Dammit, I was looking forward to causing the nasty little mite extreme pain," she replied miserably.

"Come on then, let's get your luggage and go, before Ignatius turns up and we're obligated to kill him," she said.

"We could put him out of his misery," Loli suggested hopefully. She was disappointed by a silencing look from Chan, and her face fell. "You never let me have any fun," she muttered miserably. Chandra rolled her eyes as they started to head over to get Loli's luggage.

"So do you have a dress bag for what you're changing into?" Chandra questioned, whilst they pushed through crowds of people to get to the conveyer belt carrying Loli's collection of Hello Kitty suitcases. Chandra had been fully alerted to the situation, and Colin to a degree, the degree that he understood Loli would be staying with them for an indefinite amount of time. Loli had decided no longer than six weeks, and then she would stay with her mother in Paris.

"Uh… I _am_ changed, Chan," Loli replied, staring determinedly at the circulating black strip of rubber.

"I mean for Lady Ekaterina's, silly," Chandra laughed, looking her up and down. "Of _course_ you aren't changed," she giggled.

"Well, you didn't tell me we were going straight there, but this is fine anyway," she shrugged. Chandra's eyes widened.

"You aren't _serious_, are you?" she questioned in disbelief. "Oh no. Not a _chance_. Sorry Loli, but I'm going to have to overrule on this," she said sternly. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Fine. I have enough Lolita to last me all year," she shrugged. Chandra winced.

"What about something more sophisticated?" she suggested.

"What, you mean my Alannah Hill clothes?" she asked curiously, turning to her friend.

"I was thinking more… well, that's okay. I need to change anyway, I guess we'll go home before we head over to Rosings," Chandra said, as if reassuring herself. "It's going to be fine. Perfect. Wonderful," she added nervously.

"Uhh…. Who are you trying to convince there, Chan?" Loli asked, her tone a mixture of amusement and uneasiness. "She's just a person, right? Only human," she clarified. Chandra opened her eyes, and stopped counting down from ten.

"Human? No. No, she's not human," she replied, her tone filled with anxiety. "Apparently she'll be having visitors tonight, so hopefully that'll take the spotlight off you," she said, once more, sounding very doubtful. Loli turned back to the conveyer belt.

"Okay…" she trailed off, glancing with concern back to her friend. "Right."

"Oh look! There's your luggage, let's get it," Chandra squeaked, spying a pile of matching pink bags. Chandra got a trolly as Loli pulled them off the belt, before they loaded them up, and the two started to push their way out of the airport. "So what have you been doing for the past month?" she asked curiously.

"Lot's of work, but I'm only going into the office every other day, and, believe it or not, I'm actually eating dinner at _Fanny_'s a couple of nights a week," she replied. Chandra's eyes opened wide.

"The evil stepmother? Do tell," she begged.

"It's not so bad. I just sit there mostly, she keeps trying to set me up, but I've started pretending I'm a lesbian to get her off my back," she explained. Chandra laughed.

"And how does she feel about that?" she questioned, chuckling at the thought.

"She found a nice young girl from down the road to pair me up with," she shrugged, her eyes twinkling with laughter. Chandra shook her head, trying to fight off a grin. "So tell me about this lady then," Loli requested.

"She's… uh… well, scary as all hell," Chandra admitted. "And she _really_ pisses me off, but she's _so_ rich, and she has a lot of business sense. She's a complete bitch, but she does know a thing or two," Chandra explained. "She's also very strict, and really conservative," she added, throwing a glance to Loli's clothing.

"So how does she feel about you and Colin living in sin?" Loli questioned, quirking an eyebrow. Chandra rolled her eyes.

"She doesn't _like_ it, but she seems to think its okay because we aren't sleeping together," she replied. Loli's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I happened to _listen_ to that little outburst you gave when I told you about Colin, Lo. I know that I'm being selfish and using him, but I wouldn't sink that low to make sure I'm not stealing food from rubbish bins," she replied, with a smirk. "She's not that bad really, the only problem is sometimes you just want to get _away_ from her, and she's – oh my fucking godfather!" Chandra gasped, her eyes locking on something beyond Loli as they stepped into the car park.

"What?"

"She's – oh fuck Loli, I'm _so_ sorry about this," she apologised instantly, with the guiltiest expression Loli had ever seen.

"What are you talking abo –"

"_What_ on earth are _you_?" came a hideously loud screech. Loli turned her head, expecting to see her stepmother with one killer of a throat infection and a suddenly developed Russian accent, but what she saw was something completely different.

The woman was very tall. _Very_ tall. She could easily be a catwalk model, were she a good five hundred years older. She wore a long suede coat with a fur collar and dark stockings; her feet clad in a pair of Christian Louboutin heels that could easily feed a third world country for a month, if sold. Her hair was perfectly styled, dyed a sort of white colour, nearing grey, but not quite. She had razor sharp cheekbones, painted red lips, large, ostentatious earrings, and wore a pair of D&G sunglasses over her eyes, which were probably filled with fire. She stood tall and proud, sneering down at Loli with a Birkin bag tossed over one arm, the familiar figure of Colin Williams snivelling behind her like Igor to Doctor Frankenstein.

"This is Lolita Grace Starchild, your Ladyship," snivelled Colin in his usual nasally voice. He limped over to the woman with a hunched back (okay, perhaps Loli imagined that part), and sent Loli an angry glare.

"What on earth is the poor child _wearing_?" cried the woman in disgust. Loli looked op at her, and crossed her arms.

"My Dad got this in San Fran, not long before they split up for good. It used to have Lennon's autograph on the sleave, but Mum washed it and it faded off," she explained proudly.

"Good Lord – it doesn't speak English," the woman cried, completely aghast. "Tell me, what language does the poor, deprived child speak? Clarity never informed me of the girl's lack of education," she exclaimed, turning to Chandra.

"Uh… as far as I'm aware, she speaks Japanese, French, Danish, a little bit of Spanish, oh, and English too," she recited. The woman looked shocked, or, as shocked as she could with big bug-like sunglasses.

"There's no point in learning half a dozen languages if you speak them all poorly," she said stiffly.

"Terribly sorry ma'am, how do you do?" Loli said sarcastically, her voice slow and clear. She understood perfectly well that she had a very mixed accent, but honestly, it wasn't impossible to understand her.

"Hmm. She needs to be taught manners, _and_ dress," she sniffed. "I've brought the car round, I wanted to meet this _Miss Gardiner_ the moment she arrived," she said, looking her up and down.

"Perhaps, your Ladyship, we had best take Miss Gardiner home first, so she can change," Colin snivelled. "After all, I am sure she only wore those clothes for the plane," he added.

"Yes, perhaps that is best. You shall go to Mister Williams' home and change. I hope to see you dressed appropriately for a woman of your age and situation," she said coolly. Loli wanted to roll her eyes, but only gave a mocking curtsey, and for the hell of it, thanked the woman for her kindness and complimented her high rising nose in Danish.

"I think that was 'thank you', your Ladyship," Colin muttered. The woman surveyed her momentarily, before turning back to a Rolls Royce waiting nearby. Both Colin and Chandra breathed a long sigh of relief.

"I assume that was Lady Ekaterina then," she commented. "Seemed a cheery sort of woman, but I'm curious as to whether or not the pole up her arse extends to her head, because it seems impossible for someone to hold their nose up so high without causing some sort of spinal damage," she added thoughtfully. Chandra stifled a giggle, and Colin gasped.

"_Loli_, how could you _say_ such a thing! Lady Ekaterina is a _very_ important woman!" he admonished. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Well my sunnies were cooler than hers, so I think I might just be the most popular kid in school now," she shrugged, pulling the trolley laden with her bags over to Colin's car.

The drive to Colin's penthouse didn't take long, but long enough for Loli to text Joan, her father, her mother, and Mya (the only one of her other sisters that she occasionally spoke to) to inform them that she was alive, and sent a code number to Clarkson, informing him, as he had requested, that she was fine, had arrived safely, and was not approached by anyone before, during, or after the flight. The whole thing frightened and confused her, but until she had gotten to the bottom of the mystery, she decided to do as Clarkson told her, to a certain extent.

They all crammed into the elevator with Loli's bags, rising up into the apartment complex as Colin glared at Loli in annoyance. He was convinced that Loli had made Lady Ekaterina think ill of him, and so, as a result, hated her.

"You know Colin, that whole 'I kill you with my eyes' thing is kind of annoying," Loli commented, inspecting her nails with interest. Colin pouted, snivelled something, and went back to whatever he was doing. Loli ignored him. Chandra sighed.

"So what are you wearing then Loli?" she asked brightly.

"Ta-daaa!" she announced joyfully twenty minutes later, leaping out of the spare bedroom in Colin's annoyingly spacious and well decorated (all Chandra's doing) penthouse.

"Oh… dear," muttered Chandra, shaking her head. "No. Sorry, no. Tone it down, I don't mind _Elegant_ Lolita, hell, I can even tolerate Sweet Lolita, but for Christ's sake Loli – you are _not_ leaving here wearing cat ears!" cried Chandra.

Loli's face fell.

"But they're _kawaii_!" she insisted, stomping a rowboat style shoe in anger.

"Loli, turn around, and try again," Chandra ordered from her place on the couch. Loli threw her bottom lip out in a pout. "I'm a bitch. I don't care for your pain," she said tonelessly. Loli scowled, and turned back into the room with a huff.

She emerged a few minutes later, her look much more sedated.

She wore her favourite Alannah Hill dress, it was of the same design and cut of the first dress she ever modelled, the same sleaves, the same neckline and hem, even with the same buttons, but the dress was in powder blue with cream trims, gloves and stockings. She wore the dress with baby pink accessories, a pink bow in her hair, pink ribbon on the top of her stockings, and her pink and cream lace shoes that Humbert gave her. Her hair was quite curly, but she tamed the locks and let them slide over her shoulders. She wore the diamond love heart pendant on a long chain around her neck, the charm bracelet around her wrist, and the pink diamond studs in her ears, sighing as she put the jewellery on. She adored it all so very much.

"See? This is Lolita, and at least that bitch won't bitch at me," she reasoned. Chandra smiled.

"Much better, but you still have to lose the cat ears," she said. Loli rolled her eyes, pretended to scowl, and threw them into her room. "I got the marker off your bag, but if you ever endanger my baby again, I _will_ be forced to take action," she said sternly, passing Loli her handbag. Loli cried in triumphant glee, clutching the bag to her chest.

"Me precious," she said sweetly, kissing the bag's clasp.

"Hurry _up_, both of you!" Colin wined, walking down the hall to find out what was keeping them. He was fully dressed, even holding the car keys in his hand, as to give more indication to his impatience.

"We're ready, hun," Chan assured him, getting off the couch. She had changed too, wearing a tasteful black sheathe dress and nice brown belt, with matching shoes. Colin sighed in relief, and quickly rushed to the front door. "So have you worn the bra and panties that Humbert gave you yet?" she questioned curiously. "I mean, if _I_ wore them I would feel _so_ weird, like… I don't know, I was a walking jewellery store," she muttered. "Not to mention the whole creepy stalker aspect of it," she added.

"Hell, I'm wearing them now!" Loli replied. "You forget about it. It's a nice feeling though," she explained. "I'm just happy that the diamonds don't stick into me, cos _that_ would be painful," she muttered.

"Hurry up!" Colin cried again. Loli rolled her eyes.

"And you _haven't_ murdered him yet?" she questioned Chandra, who shrugged.

"I don't know his pin code. He's no use to me dead," she replied. Loli laughed, and shook her head.

All was not forgotten, but at least things were a great deal better.

**A/N: Yaaay we're at Rosings! Or rather, the Riviera! Joy! Please review, we meet Richard the next chapter :D **


	25. Of Finding Nemo and Gregory Peck

**A/N: You guys are so lucky that I took time out of my busy schedule (consists mainly of a Audrey Hepburn movie-marathon and some binge baking) to give you twenty-four pages :D**

**Bhavana02 – come on girl, what are you doing on the internet? STUDY!!!! *sends you Jedi mind powers ordering you to study* and giving your kids nametags would just be cruel. Do it. :D**

"Oh _shit_, this is Rosings?" Loli questioned as they drove through the heavy iron gate. It was twice as big as Netherfield, and three times as grand. The grounds were just endless rolling hills of vibrant green, surrounded by fir trees and shrubbery, the estate over looking the ocean in all its purest glory. Loli hadn't seen the ocean for a long time.

"Indeed it is! The house was built in –" Colin tried to begin, but Loli held up a hand to silence him.

"Two things, Colin," she said firmly. He nodded. "One, shutup," she said, and his face fell. "Two, don't sulk," she added pointedly, leaning back in her seat comfortably. Colin rolled his eyes, and pulled into the carport.

They got out, and were met with some sort of valet, who took Colin's keys, and gave some sort of tactful greeting, as if it were a complete norm. Apparently the man would wait until all the guests had arrived, and then move the cars some secret place. Or rather, another garage on the premises. Already under the port was probably the most beautiful car Loli had ever seen – it was something sporty and cream in colour, but as to the make, model, year, she was lost. She knew nothing about cars; simply that some looked nicer than others. The little model beside her was _definitely _prettier than any she had ever seen before.

They walked to the incredibly large front doors, and Colin rung the bell. They were met by a meek little maid, who didn't raise her head at all. She ushered them into the front hall, reminding Loli distinctively of scenes from the Disney Movie _Anastasia_, before practically pushing them through a hallway and into some sort of parlour.

"She's _eager_," Loli commented sarcastically, and was met with a snort of laughter.

But it wasn't from Chandra.

Or Colin.

She turned away from the maid to take in the room she was standing in. It was huge, the walls covered in hand painted silk, the floor heavily polished marble, with a large Persian rug covering the majority of the surface, and all of the furniture was white.

It could have been a striking effect, but instead it looked gaudy. All of the furniture had been given a whitewash, and whilst it all still retained its charm, the entire room had this appearance of too much all at once.

She spotted the woman she now knew to be Lady Ekaterina du Bourg, sitting like a Queen in a large, chintzy, velvet covered chair in the centre of the room, now wearing a black pantsuit, her sunglasses removed to reveal keen and penetrating colourless eyes. Those eyes looked rather familiar, she thought to herself. She recalled that the woman before her was Darcy's Aunt. She could see some slight resemblance, it was actually kind of frightening to note.

Sitting on a chaise next to the Ladyship herself was a younger woman, Loli guessed her to be in her late twenties, with lengthy hair of an almost burgundy shade, very pale skin, and eyes so dark they could have been black. She was very thin, and a little gaunt, and had a bit of a crooked nose, but otherwise she was quite attractive. She looked quiet, but not surly. She wore a green dress that looked rather expensive, but somewhat ill-fitting.

Sitting in a much more casual manner than the two women was a young man with messy, scruffy dark blonde hair and those same colourless eyes, a bit of stubble growing on his chin, and a little bit of a belly. He was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt with a dark blue sweater, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back into the armchair with decided casualness. He sent a playful, roguish, and handsome grin to Loli, looking her up and down with amusement.

"Now Miss Gardiner, that is much better," Lady Ekaterina announced, when she turned to face her audience. "Stand over there, and turn around. Slowly," she ordered, pointing to a space on the carpet. Loli sent the woman an angry glare, and was about to retort with a quick response, when Chandra stomped on her shoe.

As in, actually _stomped _on it, with her tall heels jabbing into Loli's delicate foot.

"_Merde_!" Loli squealed, pulling away from her friend.

"What did you just say?" demanded Lady Ekaterina.

"Nothing," Loli replied bitterly, glaring at her so called 'friend' with angry eyes. She limped over to the place on the carpet, and spun around once, the woman evaluating her with keen eyes.

"Richard. Stand next to her so I can see how tall she is," she ordered. The handsome, scruffy man stood, and seemingly in two steps, was beside Loli, his tall frame looming over hers. He once more looked her up and down.

"Aunt, can I keep it?" he asked suddenly, in a curious voice. Loli snorted in laughter. "I'll look after it and everything, food, that sort of stuff," he assured the woman, who only glared at him in disapproval. "I shall keep it and it shall be mine, it shall be mine and I shall call it Squishy and it will be my Squishy and I will love my Squishy," he promised, a grin spreading over his face. Loli gave another small laugh. "Quiet Squishy – it's not funny. It's _not_ funny Squishy, quiet or else someone else will see my Squishy and want one," he ordered her sternly.

"Richard, stop being ridiculous – that is a _girl_, not some sort of toy for you to play with!" Lady Ekaterina cried in annoyance.

"You're right, Aunt," the man, Richard, said in a more sober tone. "Squishy, my love, my dearest, will you marry me?" he asked, bending on one knee and holding Loli's gloved hand tightly. Loli still giggled and laughed, trying to be serious, but finding it rather difficult.

"After such an offer I'm finding it hard to refuse," she laughed in response.

"Oh Squishy my love, you've made me the happiest man on earth!" declared Richard. "Might I take off your glove and slobber all over your nice clean hands, or should that wait until the wedding night?" he asked her.

"Why, let a man see my uncovered hands before marriage? Certainly not. I might get pregnant if you see my fingernails!" she cried in teasing horror.

"Ah, but I cannot wait until you are mine, doesn't Mrs Squishy Fitzwilliam sound so wonderful?" he said in playful dreaminess.

"Do I really have to take your name, or can I remain Squishy forever?" she asked curiously.

"Oh no, just the last name. You'll have to change yours, though," he replied casually.

"I don't have two names. I'm Madonna," she replied.

"_Really_, this is just ridiculous!" Lady Ekaterina replied.

"I _know_! You invited Madonna and didn't tell me until the last minute!" cried Richard, completely aghast. "Hey, can we name our children after Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?" he asked Loli curiously, turning back to her, still on his knees.

"No way, they'll be teased by the other kids. Let's name them after Pokemon," she responded, still fighting off laughter.

"Ah! A woman after my own heart!" Richard cried, grasping his chest dramatically. "Here's the bit where I fall over and you have to give me mouth to mouth resuscitation," he hissed, in a voice loud enough so the whole room can hear. "And try to slip in some tongue between compressions," he added, before winking, and falling to the floor.

"Upon my word. What a shame. Chandra, shall we go now?" Loli asked, walking away from the man, and towards her friend, who was desperately fighting laughter.

"Hell_oooo_, I'm lying on the ground and you aren't reviving me," Richard pointed out, his eyes still closed.

"And you'd think you would get the message, Richard," came a horribly familiar, drawling tone. Loli whipped around. There he was, polished, primped and looking very annoyed, Darcy, staring at her with more intensity than she had ever seen one man contain, lurking in a corner with a moody, brooding expression.

Her heart did some sort of funny twisty-turny thing. All she could think of was the way his arms felt wrapped around her waist, and the smell of his shirt as she fell asleep in his arms. She bit her tongue. She didn't know how she felt to see him there. Part of her was still angry with him, and she didn't even know why, but another part of her was… she didn't even want to go there. He was _there_, standing in the same room as her, looking just as cold and haughty as ever. She wondered if the whole incident in his office had even existed at all, because he certainly didn't look like he recalled it.

"Really, _Richard,_ you're behaving so very _rudely_ to my guests," spat Lady Ekaterina. "And Lolita Gardiner – you would do well not to encourage men like my nephew," she added coldly.

"Aunt! How _dare_ you say such a thing!" cried Richard, jumping up to his feet. "I'm shocked. Nay, _horrified_! How _dare_ you!" he continued, as if something she had said was the grossest insult anyone had ever made. "Her _name_ is Squishy Fitzwilliam, she's my wife now, so you had best respect her," he said boldly.

Loli laughed loudly, holding her hand over her mouth, trying to contain giggles. Colin looked mortified, Chandra was trying very hard to be serious, but she also looked rather worried, the younger woman was simply staring at them all, Darcy was being dark and broody, and Lady Ekaterina was glaring at her nephew with fire in her eyes.

"I apologise, Miss Gardiner," the Lady said stiffly. "My nephew tends to act very rashly when introduced to new people," she explained, turning back to the girl.

"They said it could be cured with an operation and a series of antibiotics," Richard declared cheerfully.

"Yes, castration will do nicely," drawled Darcy coolly. Richard stepped back over to Loli, and wrapped one arm around her lithe waist, leading her over to her boss quickly.

"Now Squishy, dearest, this is my annoying, insufferable, ridiculous, intolerable, stuck-up, sour, arrogant and all-round lovable scamp cousin Whit, he calls himself that because he hasn't got any in his personality," he informed her. "He likes long walks on the beach, rainy mornings, killing small animals and pissing on flowers, he thinks that his greatest attribute is that he's a dead ringer for Gregory Peck, and is looking for an available male between the ages of twenty-five and four hundred," he informed her. Loli stifled more giggles. "Whit, this is Squishy. She enjoys the outdoors, jazz and rock music, the colour blue and Saturday morning cartoons. Her greatest career aspiration is to be my wife and baby-maker, her favourite food is avocado and her favourite movie is _Romeo and Juliet_, the Baz Luhrmen version, of course, and she _adores_ sex in elevators," he recited.

"You do realise that she works for me, right?" Darcy questioned his cousin.

"The frightening thing is I really do like pretty much everything me mentioned," Loli commented. "Except sex in elevators, and the baby-making stuff," she said quickly.

"I'm actually quite fond of it," Richard commented casually. "It's very fun, particularly when there are other people in the lift with you," he added, with a grin.

"I'll take your word on it," Loli muttered, rolling her eyes.

"How is the Sony commission coming along?" Darcy asked her.

"We've finished the designs, we're working on animating them, but it's slow business, the Digital team are busy with emoticons or something ridiculous like that, so I'm not doing any more designs and I'm animating them by myself," she informed him. He nodded. His coldness annoyed her, but she was determined to forget about it. She needed to improve herself, she knew, and calling Darcy out because he was acting just like he always acted was hardly mature behaviour.

"Oh… shite. She actually _does_ work for you," Richard trailed off in disbelief. "Could have told me that before, Squishy," he said scornfully to Loli.

"Well, I guess I'm a bad wife then," she smirked.

"Very bad. Terrible. Horrible. Aunt, you're getting old. How about installing an elevator in here?" Richard said quickly, turning back to Lady Ekaterina, who scowled.

"Richard, stop acting such a fool and bring the girl _here_ to _me_, or I shall inform my brother of your behaviour!" she cried angrily at him in response. Richard blanched, and pulled Loli in front of his Aunt's chair, and pressing a quick peck to her cheek.

"Farewell, Squishy my love," he said lovingly, before casually strolling with his hands behind his back over to Darcy, who immediately stepped away from him. Richard pulled a sulky expression, and then hurried after his cousin, his hands still behind his back, looking something akin to a penguin, waddling after the darker of the men with a pout. "Whit! Come back! Stop resisting fool, take me now!" he cried, dashing after him. Darcy actually _ran_ away from him, dodging behind chairs and coffee tables.

"Leave me alone or I'll take Squishy's gloves off and kiss her hand," snapped Darcy, hiding behind Loli, who rolled her eyes. Richard feigned horror.

"You can't do that, she might get your cooties!" he cried in retort.

"That's better than her getting your syphilis," he countered pointedly. Richard pouted once more, and threw himself down on a chaise dramatically, and Darcy resumed his sulking on the armchair next to it.

"_Now_, no more distractions," Lady Ekaterina ordered sharply, glaring at her scruffy nephew in irritation. "So. Lolita is your name, I hear," she said, turning back to Loli.

"Yes," Loli replied. "But most people call me Loli," she added.

"No, you shall be Lolita. Loli is tacky and childish," she snapped. "You have a good figure. You don't hold yourself properly, but you developed well enough," she announced. "Your hair is very off putting. But I like it. Your skin is much too pale, clearly you don't eat well, or you have some sort of disorder," she continued. "I have heard of your sense of fashion – and I approve. To a degree. This I approve of, tasteful, and not beyond your years. But your manners need work, as do your language skills and social understanding," she informed her.

Loli frowned. She wasn't that fond of the woman already.

"I have been informed that you are an accomplished young woman," she stated.

"I – I have a degree in art, and I design graphics and illustrate in traditional and digital media," she managed to get out, not sure what the woman was getting too.

"I see. So you are an accomplished artist. Are you musical?" she questioned sharply.

"I – uh, I play a little bit of piano and sing a bit, but not very well. In fact, I kind of suck," Loli replied, shrugging.

"If I may, Lady Ekaterina," Chandra thew in. "Lolita has a lovely soprano voice, and is very skilled at the piano. She just has little faith in herself," she informed her. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Thanks Chan," she said sarcastically.

"Then I shall have to see you perform for myself. After dinner you will play and sing for us," she ordered.

"I – I really would rather –"

"That wasn't a request, Miss Gardiner," the woman snapped. "Do you ride?" she questioned.

"Uh, on a horse?" Loli asked curiously.

"No, she means on me," Richard informed her. Loli turned pink.

"Richard, if you are not going to be serious you can leave right _now_!" cried Lady Ekaterina furiously. Richard held his hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Aunt, slip of the tongue," he apologised. "I meant to say on _Whit_," he muttered quietly. Darcy's eyes widened and he stiffened immediately, glaring at his cousin in fury, a glare that would make a lesser man weak at the knees.

"Oh _do_ be quiet Richard, I'm trying to look at the young girl, not listen to you go on and on," she snapped, turning back to Loli. "So? Do you ride?" she asked.

"No. I never learnt," Loli replied, feeling like she was a tropical fish on display once again.

"Are you skilled at all in dance?" she questioned.

"Well, I can do some ballet, but I haven't practised in a while, and I really only did it for the tutu," she answered, shrugging.

"You must practise, then!" she cried in irritation. "I loathe it when people are lazy," she snapped. "And tell me, you are not married, are you?" she questioned.

"No, I am not," Loli answered coolly, as Richard gave in undignified huff.

"Good. You are too young," the Lady commented. "Pray tell me, how old _are_ you?" she questioned. "You can't be any older than twenty one," she stated firmly.

"I believe it's a woman's prerogative to hide her age when she pleases," Loli answered pointedly.

"_You_ are hardly a woman, Miss Gardiner. I would be surprised if you have finished puberty," she snapped in retort. Loli scowled.

"I'm twenty-two later this year," she said coolly. The elder woman nodded.

"Very good. These are my nephews, by the way," she said, indicating the two men sitting by her. "Richard, the son of my brother, and Fitzwhitlam, son of my sister," she said. "And this is my daughter, Anastasia," she added, as the quiet, gaunt woman nodded in Loli's direction.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Loli said warmly. The woman smiled.

"The pleasure is mine," she said, in a croaked, scratchy voice.

"As fascinating as your conversation is Aunt, can I have my Squishy back now?" Richard requested. Lady Ekaterina rolled her eyes.

"Miss Lucas, Mister Williams, you have met Anastasia, but not my nephews," she said, nodding over at them. "Richard and Fitzwhitlam. Avoid the former if you can," she added sternly. Richard took his turn to roll his eyes.

"Come over here then Squishy," he requested, beckoning her over. Loli gladly headed towards him, he was much more fun than Lady Ekaterina. She sat next to him on the chaise, slightly unnerved. Both Darcy and Richard were staring at her.

"You're a fucked up kid, aren't you, Richard," she commented randomly. Richard laughed at her attempts to begin conversation.

"You know me so well already," he grinned. "So where are you from then Squishy?" he asked. Loli looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, I was born in Iceland originally, I think," she shrugged. "I've travelled around my whole life, so I don't really have a nationality," she explained, upon noting his curious expression.

"You work for my useless excuse for a cousin then, do you?" he stated, as Loli nodded.

"Yep, for about three months now," she informed him.

"So what's he like as a boss then?" he asked excitedly, as Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Well, prepare yourself," she began. "Because the first time I met your charming cousin, he was loudly complaining in an airport in Tokyo about how horrid it was that he had to go on a commercial plane because his jet had been delayed," she informed him, as Richard started to laugh. "And he took it out on me! Poor little me, who was translating his order to the man at the coffee stand, quite innocently, insulting my shoes and being generally rude," she continued.

"Well that _sounds_ like my cuz!" laughed Richard. "My Whit, she's charming! Simply delightful," he praised.

"And too young for you," hissed Darcy coolly to his cousin.

"How old do you think is too old?" Richard asked Loli curiously. She shrugged.

"I dunno, I guess… well, thirty-five would be just ridiculous," she replied, after a thoughtful pause. Richard cheered.

"Haha, I'm thirty-four!" he cried triumphantly.

"You know, it's startling. Darcy's older than you and he's not as mature," Loli giggled.

"Actually, Darcy is my junior, young lady," grinned Richard. "I know, he's always acting like his fifty or something, but really he's a young-un," he informed her, when he saw her shock.

"She's too young for you Richard, too innocent. Keep it in your pants," Darcy ordered, but Richard gave an indignant sniff.

"On the contrary, she doesn't seem that innocent. I know that you described her to be a rose petal of perfection or something ridiculous like that, but I'm inclined to think that she's not as clean and squeaky as you think," he commented teasingly.

"No, I am," Loli said depressingly. "I have no social life. Seriously, it's just sad. People point and laugh and elderly women bake me cakes and casseroles. They all know," she added miserably.

Richard snorted in laughter.

"They all know that you're a loser?" he questioned. Loli nodded.

"I'm going to be a crazy cat lady, I just know it," she sighed.

"Well, not anymore, my Squishy, my dear," Richard grinned. "_That_ is a charming bracelet," he commented, taking her hand.

"It's so pretty, isn't it? It was a present," she grinned, as Richard inspected it. "I don't know who it's from though, but he's sent me lots of other things, he's very generous," she commented, fingering her necklace lovingly.

"This is your stalker then," Darcy commented, with slight bitterness.

"Yes, it is," she replied shortly. "He's sent me four new things this past month, a gorgeous copy of Alice in Wonderland, it's got some of the most _amazing_ illustrations, and another dress, a parasol, and a really cute hat," she informed him.

"So what kind of stuff does this guy send?" Richard asked curiously, glancing to Darcy, who had an unreadable expression upon his face.

"Really pricey things, like perfume, and ballet tickets, and dresses and shoes and lingerie, this _beautiful_ jewellery box filled with pearls and diamonds and all of that, oh, and a Birkin bag too! But some little kid put marker all over it… we got the maker off, but we couldn't find the kid again to cause him pain," she explained sadly.

"He put _marker_ on your bag?" Darcy questioned incredulously.

"Oh, it's fine now, but he was _really_ annoying. He wouldn't stop bugging me on the plane," she explained. "And apparently you can't poke small children. Even if they try and destroy bags worth more than my sister's car," she muttered.

"And so this guy just sends you things for no reason," Richard stated, as Loli shrugged.

"Well, I'm kind of a model or something like that, but not so much now, so he's like a fan or something," she explained. "I mean, it's weird that he knows my sizes and likes and everything, but when you open your door to a bottle of Chanel and lingerie with diamonds sewn into it you don't really mind so much," she laughed.

"Hang on, you mean knickers with _diamonds_ in them?" Richard exclaimed, his eyes widening.

"Well, they're sort of made of blue lace, the bra and the knickers, and along the hemline there's all of this pink ribbon threaded in, and little tiny diamonds," she explained. "They're sewn in really well, so you can still see them perfectly, but you couldn't get them out if you tried," she continued.

"And you actually _wear_ these things?" Richard exclaimed.

"Well… yeah," she shrugged. "I'm wearing them right now, they're dead comfy. I mean, who would have thought that diamonds sewn into clothing would be comfortable," she commented.

"You're probably the luckiest woman on the planet," Richard informed her, as Loli beamed.

"Don't I know it!" she responded happily. She glanced over at Darcy. He seemed quite distracted, and stressed all of a sudden. "Are you okay?" she asked with concern. Richard laughed.

"Well, obviously you _are_ an innocent," he commented, with a grin.

"I'm fine," Darcy said, sitting up properly, and clearing his throat.

"He's _perfectly_ fine," teased Richard, earning him a scowl.

Dinner was announced by a maid, popping into the room for only as long as absolutely necessary, before disappearing back into the abyss. They were lead through a hallway into a large and chintzy dining room, the furniture once again whitewashed to give an unsuccessful French Provincial appearance. They sat down at a long table, Lady Ekaterina at the head, and somehow, Loli was placed between Darcy and Richard. She didn't know how she was going to get through the evening.

"So, Miss Gardiner. Mr Williams tells me that your parents are no one of significance," stated Lady Ekaterina to begin conversation. "But that they are both career people. Tell me, what do they do?" she questioned.

"My parents aren't _insignificant_, to begin with," she snapped, glaring at Colin, who whimpered. "My father is now a semi-retired travel writer. My mother's a fashion designer," she informed the lady coolly. "She has her own label, _Eve's Garden_," she added.

"Then they are both the hardworking kind. This is good," the Lady responded. "And yet you do not practise at your dance or music, which means that you are not hardworking," she added, but Loli scowled.

"I work very hard. I work so hard that I have no time for dancing or music, my art is consuming my life, my job is very important to me," she insisted. Lady Ekaterina raised an eyebrow over a glass of white wine.

"Where do you see yourself in five or ten years, Miss Gardiner?" she questioned curiously.

"Well… I'm not sure," Loli muttered. "Hopefully in ten years I'll be able to lift my designs off the ground and sell more of my artwork, I hope to have a studio eventually, maybe get into fashion design like my mother, but most likely traditional and digital media designing," she replied. "I'd like to do websites and merchandise for bands too," she added.

"So you haven't a clear picture," the Lady stated. "Yes, it seems a sign of a restless mind to me," she commented. Loli frowned, it was obviously meant as an insult. "And are you planning on marrying, and having any children?" she questioned.

"I thought we were already half-way there," Richard joked quietly.

"Well, not really," Loli confessed. "I don't think I'm suited to that kind of life. I don't really want to have children," she answered.

"_Really_?" exclaimed Lady Ekaterina.

"Lolita, it is your duty, as a woman, to –" Colin began, but Loli kicked him under the table, and he shut up.

"And what if you married, and your husband wanted a family?" Lady Ekaterina questioned coolly, but Loli only shrugged.

"I – I'm _twenty-one years old_, Lady Ekaterina," she exclaimed "I mean, I don't even think I have all the right _parts_ to have children yet, let alone the emotional mindset to look after another human being," she explained awkwardly. She bit her tongue again. She was _trying_ to be mature. It was just so hard.

"You will change your mind," the lady stated, sipping her wine. "They always do in the end," she added. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Yes, and in the end, they all end up preggers," Richard commented dryly.

"Speaking from experience?" Loli asked curiously, with a teasing grin.

"Oh yes, I'm in my sixth month," he replied, leaning back in his chair and patting his belly. "Whit's the father. We're going to split custody, but he still has to pay me childcare," he explained, as Loli snorted in laughter.

"Stop it. Not only is that physically impossible, it's just damn insulting," hissed Darcy to Richard with a stern eye.

"He's been denying it the whole time so he doesn't have to pay up," Richard informed Loli quietly. "It's all very hushed up, not even his babysitter knows," he added.

"Richard! I told you to leave her alone!" cried Lady Ekaterina sharply. "Sit there and eat quietly. Don't talk to anyone. Shame of my flesh!" she hissed angrily, as the servers walked into the room, setting down plates of some sort of roasted bird. Possibly pheasant.

"Sorry 'bout that Auntie, shan't happen again, I swear," Richard said sincerely. The lady removed her disapproving gaze from her nephew, and swept it over Loli for a moment. She then turned back to Chandra and Colin.

"So why doesn't your baby sitter know?" Loli asked teasingly. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Richard insists on calling my head of security a baby sitter," he explained in annoyance. Loli laughed.

"Sorry, it's just that Clarkson isn't your babysitting type," she giggled quietly, trying to avoid the stares of Lady Ekaterina.

"H – how do _you_ know who my head of security is?" Darcy questioned, frowning. Loli bit her lip in realisation from her mistake.

"Uhh… they told me his name at the front desk?" she offered weakly. Darcy sent her another firm glare, and then emptied about half of his wine glass in one go.

He didn't speak to her until the dessert, by which time she had been thoroughly ground into the dust by Lady Ekaterina, who insisted on knowing _everything_ about her life, as in addresses and postal codes of every place she had ever lived in, intense details as to the syllabus of every class she ever did, from kindergarten to her fourth year of University, as well as the names of all her teachers, and recommended Finishing Schools at every breath Loli took. She kicked Darcy under the table just to get him to talk to her so she could avoid anymore of the woman's questionings.

"Ouch!" he hissed quietly.

"Oh shutup, you big baby," she retorted, rolling her eyes at his complaint. "So. Talk." she ordered him.

"This is rather unconventional, but I suppose I have to, don't I," he replied coolly. "How are your family?" he questioned.

"Joan is in America. She's very happy. Thrilled," she practically spat. "I got a call from Dad two weeks ago, he was in Peru then, but I have no idea where he is now. Fanny is… well, Fanny, and so are her three daughters. Mum just launched a new line of winter clothing, and little Eve just started preschool," she informed him. He nodded.

"And… you?" he asked delicately. Obviously he did recall the incident in his office then.

"Well I'm not falling to pieces right in front of people, if you're concerned," she replied, picking at her roasted bird-thing. "I only came in part-time for the past month and completed the rest of work from home, as per request," she added, trying not to let her voice reveal how much she disliked it.

"It was to reduce stress," he defended. Loli frowned.

"And usefulness," she threw in with irritation.

"Fitzwhitlam! Miss Gardiner! What are you talking about?" questioned Lady Ekaterina coolly, surveying them over the table with her keen and penetrating eyes.

"Work, Aunt," Darcy replied simply.

"Ah yes. Miss Gardiner, tell me. What kind of art are you… producing?" she asked Loli pointedly.

"Visual, ma'am," Loli retorted with slight edge. She was getting annoyed by the woman already. She raised an eyebrow.

"Clearly," she replied coolly. "But unless you think me a _complete_ imbecile, I'd prefer if you were more specific," she added, with twice as much bite as Loli.

"Digital graphics, Lady Ekaterina, as you well know," Loli replied shortly, growing exasperated.

"So, Miss Gardiner – I am somewhat confused," Lady Ekaterina began.

"How so?" she asked coolly.

"Well, you live in London, not ten minutes from your eldest sister, and an hour from your stepmother and father, and yet you claim to some sort of independence, which you neither have, nor can maintain," she continued, as Loli scowled. "You have an insignificant job, you are barely educated, and you live in a small apartment. You have, at best, mediocre looks, but you model. You have no sense of fashion, clearly, because you're wearing an outfit designed _for_ you, and you have no social standing nor manners to recommend yourself," she said calmly, as if one were discussing the weather. "So _why_ on earth has my nephews been staring so intently at you the whole evening?" she questioned.

Loli was furious. Absolutely furious, filled with hot, raging fire, ready to punch that old crone in the face.

But she didn't.

She took a breath in, and a breath out.

"Well I guess, Lady du Bourg, that I can compensate for my failings. Because in the lack of all you have mentioned, I have something else," she replied calmly. "They're called boobs." she snapped angrily. Richard gave a whoop and a cheer, jumping up in his chair. Loli inwardly groaned. She wished that she hadn't said that. But the woman _clearly_ deserved it.

"My _God,_ I love this woman!" he cried triumphantly, pulling her from her chair and up into his arms, spinning her quickly and pressing a kiss to her cheek. He placed her down, grinning ear from ear.

Chandra looked green.

And Colin looked dead.

Darcy just looked. At _her_. With some sort of expression half-way between amusement and admiration and complete shock.

And unbelievably, Lady Ekaterina smiled. Actually _smiled_. It was more of a smirk, but there was definite curving of the lips involved.

"I am impressed, Miss Gardiner. I would like you to visit me," she ordered.

"Wha – _what_?" Loli exclaimed, frowning. Richard continued to laugh.

"Auntie dear, that was just _cruel_," he chuckled, his eyes twinkling.

"What the hell is going on?" Loli questioned, turning her head in confusion.

"She was testing you," Darcy said quietly, staring at his hands in obedience. Loli's eyes narrowed.

"That was a dirty trick," she muttered under her breath.

"A dirty trick, to which you passed, Miss Gardiner," snapped Lady Ekaterina in return. "You will continue to come here with Mr Williams and Miss Lucas for the remainder of your stay," she ordered. Loli was about to object, but Darcy nudged her foot. She turned to him with an annoyed glance, and he sent her a look of 'don't go there'. She frowned, and turned back to Lady Ekaterina.

Darcy stomped on her foot. She winced, but closed her mouth, and glared at Darcy. He mouthed 'sorry' and looked vaguely apologetic, but by this time, Lady Ekaterina was talking to one of the maids, ordering her to clear the table.

"Bastard," Loli muttered as they stood up, hissing her words to Darcy.

"I had no choice, you were about to order your own execution," he objected obstinately. "Did I hurt your foot?" he asked, but he didn't sound overly concerned to Loli.

"No, it's fine," she replied coldly, following the party into the drawing room. She walked behind Darcy, limping only very slightly.

"Hey there gimp," Richard greeted her from behind. "Did he try and get you to shutup then?" he asked curiously, staring at her foot. Loli scowled, and stuck her tongue out at Darcy's retreating back.

"He's _your_ cousin, you kick him back for me," she advised him. Richard laughed.

"Actually, I hate to admit it, but he would probably end me," he replied wisely. Darcy turned his head back to glance at his cousin.

"True," he commented, before turning back.

"He's awfully smug, isn't he," Loli said coolly, glaring at her employer.

"I still have bruises from when I was sixteen and we liked the same girl," he informed her. "Darcy beat the shit out of me, but I got the girl in the end," he added with glee, as Loli laughed.

"Did he cry?" she asked playfully.

"Actually, I have a suspicion he was never interested in the girl, he just wanted an excuse to beat me up," Richard commented thoughtfully, taking a seat on a chaise, Loli sitting down next to him. "In fact, she went to my school… so he probably didn't even know her…" he muttered thoughtfully, a frown overcoming his features. "_Whit_, you prick, you didn't really like Abigail Prosley, you beat me up just for the hell of it!" he cried, completely aghast.

"Yes. Yes I did."

"Prick."

"Yes."

"Asshole."

"Indeed."

"Absolute _twat_."

"Now, actually, _that_ I don't deserve," Darcy threw in lightly.

"Wanna fight me for Squishy?" Richard questioned brightly. Loli rolled her eyes.

"I don't need to fight you. I'm more attractive than you, younger, richer, and I know her favourite colour already. And as you already stated, apparently I look like Gregory Peck. Women like Gregory Peck," Darcy replied from his armchair, casually flicking through an issue of _Vogue_ on the coffee table.

"What's your favourite food?" whispered Richard to Loli.

"Strawberries," she replied quietly.

"Knew that too," Darcy threw in, before closing the magazine. "You're on pages sixty-seven through to seventy-one," he informed her, putting it back on the coffee table just as Lady Ekaterina came in.

"Anastasia is retiring early tonight. She is feeling weak," the woman informed the group.

"I _do_ hope that nothing serious ails her, Lady Ekaterina," sniffled Colin, he and Chandra following the woman into the room, taking their places at chairs closest to hers.

"Quiet, Williams," the Lady snapped in return, fixing her eyes on Loli. "Now. I want you to play and sing us something, Miss Gardiner," she ordered.

"Uh… you really don't want that," Loli said quietly, biting her lip.

"Do not presume you are in the understanding of what I want and do not want, Miss Gardiner, and as of now, I want you to play and sing for us," she said coolly.

"Do it, it won't hurt that much," Richard urged her. Loli sighed irritably.

"Fine then," she spat, standing up, and heading over to the gorgeous grand piano across the room. She settled down on the stool, and pulled up the lid, staring at the keys. She thought for a moment on what she should play, before she began to press down softly on the keys.

He couldn't believe she had come to _Rosings_ of all places. It was a one in a billion occurrence, of all of the places she could have gone, she came to his _Aunt's_ home. He had been there for two weeks already, deciding that he could no longer put himself in a position where Loli would be both a threat and a target.

He didn't want to admit it himself, but he had grown to care for her a great deal. He felt like he knew her, and he knew her more than anyone else in the world did. So he _had_ to keep her safe. And that meant him removing several people from the picture – but he was willing to do it. He was willing to leave England for her sake, he was willing to encourage Cale to establish the American branch of Bingley & Hurst, and to leave that simpering blonde behind, and he was willing to do everything that was within his power to have Wickham restrained.

But all of his efforts were done in silence. He cared for her, yes, but like a lover? No, because it simply couldn't be, he rationalised to himself, his eyes locking onto her slender and yet curvy figure. Her long scarlet curls fell in soft spirals and tight tendrils about her pale face, bright blue eyes that had haunted him so downcast to watch her fingers at work. Pink lips moving gracefully as she formed the words of the song, the light from the evening sun disappearing over the water casting red-gold shadows across her porcelain skin.

She was very beautiful. It wasn't in a way that you would really call beautiful upon first meeting, rather you would concede that there is nothing _wrong_ with her looks, just nothing of too much interest. Well, that was wrong, he thought, because she had stunning blue eyes. Her hair was startling at first, so very long, and that shade of brilliant scarlet, but the more he saw it, the more he loved it. Most women with red hair steered away from pink, he had noticed, but she wore it to abandon, and it looked perfect on her.

He had known her for a few months now, and every time he saw her was a new thrill, a new experience. And the feeling of her falling asleep in his arms… every night he dreamed about it, her lithe, small body tucked against his, her pretty little head resting on his chest as she breathed softly in and out. She was beautiful when she slept. He had stayed with her for hours, just watching her, holding her, relishing in something he knew that couldn't be.

But there was so much to hold him back, he thought, his eyes never wavering from her direction. She was so very young! And he, so much her senior, how could he even _think_ of her in such a way? When he was her age she was just a child, not even a teenager! Was it paedophilia if the individual in question was of age _now_, but the other party had been of age for quite some time?

He tried to concentrate, to rid his mind of _her_, but she was sitting there, singing and playing in such a beautiful manner… His ears had been trained from listening to Gigi play the piano, and he recognised the song vaguely, so he knew she was missing a few notes, and occasionally her voice would waver slightly on the higher notes, but Chandra was right, she was a lovely soprano. If she sought out proper lessons, she could easily sing opera, he thought, and with much more smoothness than many performers. But she seemed content with her skill, and skill it certainly was. She sounded beautiful. He was torn to admit it, due to family loyalty towards Gigi, but she had so much more depth and feeling to her playing, something that Gigi had, but not to such levels as the woman sitting before him. He knew who he would prefer to listen to.

He wanted desperately to question her about Clarkson. But his desire to hear her, to see her, to be in the same _room_ as her overrode that. He was content.

Loli was unnerved. Darcy had been glaring at her from the moment she had sat down at the piano. His gaze was hard, dark and, yes, as Clarity had pointed out, dangerous. He looked like he was trying to fire daggers into her with only his eyes. She concentrated on the piano, knowing that she was in for a telling off when he had a moment to speak with her. She shouldn't have let the Clarkson comment slip; now he knew.

She wondered, not for the first time that evening, what he was doing in France. Yes, he _was _Lady Ekaterina's nephew, but it was just too much of a coincidence. She tried not to think about how horrible her stay in the Riviera was going to be, before Richard caught her eyes with a handsome smile. She blushed ever so slightly and smiled back, before returning to the piano.

She finished the piece, 'Some Days' by Regina Spektor, and made to stand up as her small audience clapped in approval.

"You need to practise, Miss Gardiner," Lady Ekaterina ordered coolly. Loli rolled her eyes. "I didn't say stop, young lady," she added curtly, nodding to the piano. The moment she had turned her head to talk to Chandra Loli gave her the finger, and then sat down in annoyance.

"Can I turn the pages for you?" Richard asked, popping up immediately.

"There isn't any sheet music," she replied in slight confusion. He looked thoughtful.

"I could make some sort of innuendo joke right about now, but honestly, there's no challenge," he sighed, leaning against the piano. "You played wonderfully, by the way," he smiled. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Not really," countered. "I was missing notes left right and centre. I haven't really practised that much," she shrugged, turning back to the keys. She began to softly trudge her way through '_Kiss the Rain_' by Yiruma. Her forehead creased in conversation.

"Nah, you play beautifully, and you've got a great voice," he assured her, sitting down on the edge of the piano stool beside her, watching her fingers move. "So Whit hasn't mentioned me at all?" he asked her curiously. Loli shook her head.

"He doesn't really talk much," she conceded. "I mean, he talks a bit to me, but I guess that's just out of politeness," she added, with a shrug. Richard smiled quietly.

"I'm sure," he muttered, still grinning.

"So tell me about yourself then," she requested. Richard took a deep, thoughtful breath.

"_Well_, to be perfectly honest, I don't do that much work," he began. "Mostly I help Whit run the Darcy Empire, he spends most of his time with the Design company that he doesn't do altogether that much for the others, he owns them all, but he's hired CEO's," he explained. "I've been on a bit of a world trip for a while now, with my cousin Gigi and little Callum, but they're in America at the moment, Gigi's staying with a friend, and Auntie requested my presence," he added, nodding over to Lady Ekaterina.

"And tell me about your cousin," she requested.

"Well, I'm sure you've worked out that he's pretty quiet," Richard began. Loli hid a slight frown, she had meant Gigi, but she said nothing.

"That one was a given," she quipped.

"Yeah, I guess that's true," he laughed. "But he's a decent guy, about a million times smarter than I am, but I'd never let the bastard know it," he grinned. "He takes a while for you to get to know him, but he's a really good guy when you do. He'd do anything for the people that he loves, his Dad pummelled a sense of family loyalty into his head his whole life, and it really rubbed off," he explained. Loli glanced over at Darcy. He was looking out the window in silence.

"Even if it means hurting someone else?" she asked curiously, managing to pass it off as a casual thing.

"He's not the kind of guy to hurt an innocent person, he doesn't _mean_ any harm, but it's much better to be his friend than his enemy, if you get what I'm saying," he replied.

"Don't you find him a little… demanding?" Loli asked quietly. Richard smiled.

"Yes. I do," he conceded, glancing over at his cousin. "I don't know if it's a flaw or not, but I have to admit that he tends to get what he wants," he added, turning back to Loli.

"I always got the impression that he's not the kind of guy you should say no to," she commented.

"No, but the plus side is, he's not the kind of guy that would ask you to do anything you shouldn't be doing already," he pointed out.

"I know that this might sound… weird…" she began quietly. "But… does he ever… frighten you?" she questioned softly.

Richard didn't say anything for a moment.

"Only when he gets angry. _Really_ angry. And that's only happened a very few times, but it's not like – it's difficult to explain," he sighed. "But I doubt he'd scare you, I have a suspicion you're not the easily frightened kind of girl," he laughed. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Sure. Yell out 'spider' and just see what happens," she suggested teasingly. Richard gave another warm bout of laughter, his eyes twinkling. Loli smiled. She liked Richard.

"Oh look, there's one on your back right now, how ironic," he said, pointing to her shoulder. Loli winced, but did not squeal or desperately try to shove it off. She scowled.

"Bully," she retorted pointedly, turning back to the piece, missing a note, but moving along steadily.

"Richard, what are you talking about?" cried Lady Ekaterina, glaring over at the two. Richard turned his head.

"Spiders, Auntie," he replied cheekily. Lady Ekaterina scowled.

"You will find no spiders _here_, Richard," she replied coolly. "Come here Richard, I have something I want to talk to you about," she added. Richard sighed, and stood.

"I shall return, Squishy my love," he declared, bowing to her slightly, before marching over to the large armchair where Lady Ekaterina resided.

Loli smiled, and finished the piece. She received another glowering glare from the Lady, so sighed, and began to play an instrumental version of 'Violet Hill' by Coldplay.

"You like Richard," she heard a voice say. She turned her head; Darcy had just walked up to join her.

"Well, any man that names me after a jellyfish in Finding Nemo has my heart," she replied, rolling her eyes. He frowned slightly, and then looked thoughtful.

"How much did he tell you?" he questioned suddenly, his eyes piercing into hers.

"Who?"

"You know very well who, Lolita," he snapped in anger. She held her head high, and met his glare.

"He told me that it was within my best interest to leave the country for a little while," she replied shortly. "That someone wanted to hurt me. He didn't answer any of my questions, but I did what he said, so here I am," she muttered. Darcy nodded slowly.

"He didn't tell you who?" he questioned her.

"No. But I think I know who," she replied, turning back to the keys. "It's Humbert, isn't it," she questioned, glancing over at Darcy.

"I can't say," he answered, his eyes following her fingers.

"Are you trying to frighten me?" she questioned. He looked somewhat puzzled.

"In actuality, this has nothing to do with you. You were just a convenient person to be threatened, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time," he informed her slowly. "We don't think that the threat is serious, and it's been made against several other people, this was just a precaution," he explained.

"I didn't mean that, I meant the fact that you're hovering over me," she countered. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not hovering. Richard was hovering. I'm standing by the piano, whilst you are conveniently sitting in front of the piano," he retorted pointedly.

"You're in my personal space bubble," she pointed out. He looked between them.

"Is this a bubble that I can see, or is it a side-effect of your medication?" he questioned coolly.

"You lived with a teenage girl and you don't know what a personal bubble is?" she exclaimed, narrowing her eyes. Darcy looked somewhat uncomfortable.

"Gigi is sane. She doesn't see bubbles that no one else is aware of," he replied. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Then she's clearly been living with you for too long," she said pointedly, turning back to the keys. Darcy said nothing for a little while.

"Why didn't you tell me that you played?" he asked finally, still watching her fingers dance. She shrugged.

"I don't really play very often, I inherited a piano from my great Aunt Elizabeth, and I just kept it in storage most of the time. I only bothered to learn to kill some time," she explained casually.

"If you practised more, and had lessons, you could easily be a professional," he replied. She stared up at him with a curious expression, frowning slightly. He looked self-conscious. "What?" he questioned nervously, glancing around.

"You... t – that was the closest thing to a compliment I've ever heard from you," she muttered, before lowering her eyes and turning back to the piano.

"I've told a great many people of your designing skills, as you well know," he replied in his own defence. She shook her head.

"Only in argument. That was a compliment, or, almost one, and you've never said anything like that to me before," she explained.

Darcy's heart fell when he caught a tiny glimpse at her expression. He _wanted_ to take her in his arms, kiss her passionately and tell her of every little thing about her that he loved and adored, but he just couldn't. He wanted her to know how much he cared about her, but he couldn't. He knew that she knew anyway, but was she so insecure that she needed reassuring? He supposed that living with her stepfamily must have destroyed a great portion of her self-esteem, but she didn't act like it affected her at all.

"Uh… you play very well; you have a beautiful voice, err…" Darcy muttered awkwardly. She laughed softly.

"I wasn't asking you to shower me with hollow compliments for the sake of my ego, you know," she pointed out, wondering why she was finding it so hard to be hostile to the man that had destroyed Jamie Wickham's life, and possibly her own sister's.

"It wasn't – err, they weren't…" he trailed off, trying to find the words.

"Oh goodie, he's stammering again," came a cheery voice. Loli's face lit up as Richard rejoined them, leaning over the piano, his eyes locking onto the player's. "So what did you do, place him in intellectual checkmate?" he asked teasingly, glancing over at his brooding cousin.

"Kind of sacrificed a pawn for one of his knights, really," she replied, with a grin. Richard laughed.

"He's bloody darn invincible at chess though, in a non-intellectual game he can destroy me in four moves," he commented.

"I could probably do it in one, you're that inept at the sport," drawled Darcy, rolling his eyes.

"I love chess," Loli said thoughtfully. "I'm pretty good too, I'll have to see if I can destroy Richard in under four moves and brake my boss' record," she added, with a grin, as Richard laughed.

"Play with Darcy, or else he'll get jealous," he urged her. He gave another small smile. "So what was he like in London, then, Squishy?" he asked her curiously.

"Well, we met again at a party Clarity was throwing in the middle of the city," she began, with a grin, as Darcy scowled at his cousin. "I'm bored out of my brain, I only came because when it comes to my stepsister I'm a complete and total pushover," she explained. "So _anyway_, he comes in, late, hovering around the corners, not talking to anyone that he hasn't known for a good twenty years, not dancing with anyone, simply _staring_, the whole evening," she informed him. Richard laughed.

"Yeah, he's an emotional and social fucktard alright," he grinned, ignoring Darcy's withering glare.

"I knew only a few dozen people there. I only came as a curtesy," he tried to defend himself. Loli arched a grin, and quirked one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows challengingly.

"Well I only knew _two _people in that room, and I managed fine enough," she retorted.

"We don't all have amazing social skills," he muttered quietly. Richard groaned as Lady Ekaterina cried for him to come hither again, excusing himself from the trio.

"Well maybe you just need to practise a bit more," she retorted pointedly, turning back to the piano with determination, beginning to play The Fray's 'How to Save a Life'. He was silent for a few moments, before she heard him suddenly crouch down, and speak in a low, deep voice, practically a whisper.

"I… do not pretend to possess any ease in conversation. I'm naturally a private person. I can't talk to people I don't know," he said quietly, as Loli hid back an involuntary shiver. "I don't know their interests, I don't understand their humour, I can't pick up their conversation as well as I would like to," he added softly.

"That's half the fun, Darcy," she replied, arching another small smile to hide her discomfort. Or was it comfort? She didn't know. All she knew was that when he stood so close to her, his hot breath by her ear sending chills down her spine.

"I don't perform for strangers, Lolita," he said plainly, his eyes locking with hers. "And if you were to say that _you_ do, then you would be lying," he continued.

"And I'm sure you hate lies," she said sarcastically, Jamie and Joan springing to mind.

"Yes. Above all else, I hate lies," he replied, his eyes still never wavering from hers. Loli wanted to look away, but she just couldn't. She swallowed.

"Sure there aren't a few other things higher on the list?" she questioned shakily, trying to sound light and humorous, but she was quite sure she was failing miserably. "Like annoying girls in airports and Disney Princess bandaids?" she threw in, chewing her lip.

"Not at all," he replied softly.

Loli wondered when she had stopped playing the piano.

She also wondered when Darcy's fingers came to lightly brush against the inside of her wrist, and how she could enjoy such a tiny, simple touch from the man she hated so very much.

"Miss Gardiner, have your fingers fallen off?" came a sharp enquiry from the other side of the room, Lady Ekaterina's sharp, accented voice breaking the tension hanging in the air. Loli turned away, and started to play again, and Darcy stood up properly. He sent one glance back to Loli, before walking away.

Had Loli looked up, she would have seen his expression. A mixture of pain, desire, and possibly, maybe even…

Love.

**A/N: How do you love me, please review, listing the ways :D Nah, just telling me what you liked in this chapter is good enough, my ego doesn't need to be flattered anymore :D**


	26. French Braids and Dinner Plans

**A/N: Yay! Another big long chapter with plenty of banter between Richard and Darcy, and a nice little moment between Darcy and Loli. What more could you want? What's that? Me to stop writing this author's note and update? Well, okay…**

Chandra glanced in the rear view mirror of the car, looking over her friend in concern. She had been very quiet since they left Rosings, staring out to space with a slight frown upon her lips. Chandra wanted to question, but she knew that it wasn't her place.

Things had been so difficult with Loli lately. They had always been close, ever since they met as children; she thought that they knew each other backwards.

But that was the problem. They both changed.

To be perfectly honest, Chandra had always been jealous of Lolita Gardiner. Why wouldn't she? She was beautiful, perhaps not in the manner that Joan was, but still, she was stunning. She was clever too, suffering from the classic misunderstood genius syndrome, why even try if you knew you were smarter than everyone around you, and it was just too easy?

She wished that she had Loli's life sometimes. Hearing her complain about her jerk-face boss, who Chandra was almost certain was in love with his stubborn employee, listening to her whine about Colin Williams, the rich creep with greasy hair and the world at his feet.

She had met Colin at dinner with her parents, Leda and William Lucas were close friends of Fanny Bettenne, and when Fanny had taken the well-connected, single accountant under her wing, her parents did the same, determined to not be outdone by Fanny Bettenne.

She had been unimpressed at first, but agreed to have a coffee with him some time. She suspected it was so he could find more information about her friend, but she didn't mind. Yes, she flirted with the wealthy business partners of her father, she went to all the right parties and wore all the right things, but the fact of the matter was that she could never hold down a man, and she was beginning to realise that finding a 'patron', as such, was going to be her only option.

So when Colin came to her, dejected when Loli had rejected his offer to move in with him, she was more than happy to lend a shoulder.

She saw him a few times, and to his credit, he wasn't _that_ bad. He wasn't attractive, but he didn't make her eyes bleed, and he really only bothered her when he was talking. But he enjoyed spending money on things for her to gain her approval, and she enjoyed accepting them. It was a win-win situation.

So when Colin had begged her to move in with him, to live in his sleek and modern penthouse in the Riviera, she had readily accepted. She still worked for _Clarity_, just via email and the phone. After all, he had everything she had ever wanted, and he was offering it to her for free. She would live off Colin for a while, save up a bit of money, and then leave him.

God, it sounded so terrible when she thought over it, Chandra noted miserably. 'That's why Loli can barely look me in the eye', she thought to herself. She was so angry that she didn't feel shame for what she was doing, but for the way it made Loli act and feel. Loli was a naturally self-righteous person, she only ate meat under protest, she punched people in the lips when they stepped on ants, she refused to let the man pay on a date if he thought it would impress her, she was so stubbornly independent that it made Chandra envious.

But she would never, ever, _ever_ forget the way that Loli looked at her when she told her what she had done.

"I'll leave him eventually. But for now, I need him, Loli."

Chandra closed her mouth, and waited for her friend's reaction. Loli's eyes widened, and she edged back into the kitchen bench. She blinked away angry tears, and bit her lip.

"That is so… _wrong_, Chan," she said, shaking her head. Chandra sighed. At least she wasn't shouting anymore.

"I know, but what can I do?" she shrugged. Loli gave a bitter laugh, and raised her head, to look her friend in the eye.

Chandra had expected anger.

She had expected betrayal.

She had expected disapproval.

But what she saw was worse than all of them.

Loli looked at her with an expression of extreme disappointment, and pity.

And that made Chandra furious. She didn't want to be pitied.

"You know what, I don't need you to approve of this, I need you to understand. But you don't, so I'm leaving," she said bitterly. "I – I'll call you later," she muttered, turning on heel, and leaving the kitchen silently.

She shivered with the memory. Had it really been a month ago? It felt like it had been an age since they had been close like they were, and it would be an age before they were that way again.

She had learnt something new about Loli.

She was twice the woman that she had given her credit for.

But Chandra was half the woman that she had given herself credit for.

"You know, things don't have to be like this," Chandra said casually, later that night as they sat in the guest room, plaiting each other's hair like they used to when they were little.

"Err… well, French braid it then," Loli suggested cautiously. Chandra rolled her eyes.

"I _mean_, we don't have to try and ignore what I did," she corrected her. Loli stiffened slightly.

"Chan…" she muttered quietly, so quietly that Chandra almost didn't hear.

"It wasn't the right thing for me to do. I get it, I know," she said. "But I didn't do it because I thought it was right," she insisted. "Do you think Colin loves me? No, he doesn't. He's doing this to get Lady Ekaterina's attention. You have to understand," she said pleadingly. Loli did not turn her head.

"Chan, I understand what you did, and why you did it," she replied softly, after a pause. "I think your reasons are absolute shit, and I personally hate it, I won't lie to you," she continued. "But I know why you did it, and I understand. You don't have my respect, not for what you did. But you have my support, in a weird, and twisted way," she assured her, finally turning her head. Chandra grinned from ear to ear, her eyes sparkling.

"Thank you, Loli," she replied, her smile growing. She pulled her friend into a tight hug. "This means so much to me," she said quietly. Loli laughed.

"Yeah, I can imagine you've been somewhat restricted here," she muttered, glancing around. "The place is nice though," she added thoughtfully.

"Colin didn't decorate it, of course. It's all my doing," she grinned.

"Thought as much."

"So. Tell me about Richard and Darcy then," she demanded. Loli rolled her eyes.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me they were going to be here," she muttered.

"I honestly didn't know! They just turned up, I swear," Chandra assured her, finishing off Loli's plait.

"Yeah. Right. Sure," she said sarcastically. Chandra playfully smacked her on the arm.

"Seriously, I had no idea," she said firmly. Loli grinned.

"But still, Richard was really nice," she commented casually, lying back on the bed, and staring at the roof. "Friggen hilarious too, might I add, the bastard kept on trying to get me in Dutch with McDragon Lady," she continued, with a smile.

"He really is quite wonderful, I have to say," Chandra agreed, she too lying back on the bed, holding a pillow to her chest. "But you've got Whit Darcy, sex on a stick, you can leave Richard for me, please?" she begged. Loli snorted.

"Fitzwhitlam Darcy is the _last_ man on earth to ever be interested in me, and the feeling is entirely mutual," she assured her, stretching out her legs and arms. Chandra smiled knowingly.

"Yeah. Right. Bitch, about that…" she trailed off laughingly. "He's _into_ you," she said firmly, dodging her friend's pokes with practised ease.

"You're turning bitter and horrible, you know," Loli pointed out. "Darcy doesn't like me. I know that as a fact, so let it go, okay?" she requested. Chandra gave another small grin.

"I don't get why you're so annoyed, he _is_ gorgeous, you know," she commented. Loli rolled her eyes, and rolled over on the bed.

"He's so complicated, Chan. One moment he's horrible, and the next he's… I don't know."

"He's sexy," she countered.

"Okay, I admit that he _is_ gorgeous, but that's it!" she cried, lifting her head up slightly. "He's constantly being rude to me, and I haven't forgotten Tokyo, or Clarity's party, you know," she added. Chandra snorted in disapproval.

"When are you going to get over that grudge you have against him?" she questioned. Loli scowled in response.

"Whit Darcy is a prick. He might be sex on toast, but he's a prick, and I am _not_ interested, and neither is he," she said pointedly. Chandra laughed.

"Loli, sweetie, he's in _love_ with you," she informed her. "I can see it, I'm good at these things," she said, patting her on the back. "He's _always _watching you," she began, holding up her hands, and sticking her thumb up, as if counting.

"Yeah, so he can keep an eye on me. He's obsessed with trying to control me," she countered, rolling onto her back, the sheets twisting around her pink pyjama-clad body.

"He looked like he wanted to kill Richard tonight when he was talking to you," she continued wisely. Loli snorted.

"He wanted to kill Richard anyway, _I_ have nothing to do with it," she replied.

"He gets jealous of _every_one that you talk to," she added.

"Yeah, that's cos he's a weird fucker," Loli defended firmly. "Listen, Chan, it's not like that. He doesn't like me, and I don't like him. I _know_ he doesn't like me," she said plainly.

Chandra sighed.

Loli might be one of the cleverest girls around, she thought, but she certainly didn't have much in the way of common sense.

~*~

"Loli, wake up!" came a sing-song voice. Loli groaned, and rolled over in bed, snuggling closer into the warmth it provided. "Lo_li_ta, Lo_li_ta, Lo_li_taaa, wake up and let me _feed_ ya, let me _see_ ya, or else I'll _eat_ ya," the voice continued.

"Bah!" she groaned, continuing to delve into the blankets.

"Is it a lost cause?" she heard a masculine, teasing voice question.

"Oh no, she's a very light sleeper, but she hates being woken up," the first voice informed the second. "She's awake now, but she certainly doesn't want to get up," it continued cheerfully.

"This is so wrong, we shouldn't be in here," a third voice said nervously, his deeper than the others, lilted slightly with Russian.

"Come on, she's decent," the second voice pointed out.

"No I'm not. I'm naked. Go away," Loli muttered.

"Really?" the second voice asked curiously, with a bit of hope in his (she had determined it was male) tone.

"Yes. Bugger off," she mumbled tiredly, burying deeper into the blankets.

"She's not really," the first voice countered. "Come on Loli, wake up! We're going to have some brunch before we go shopping and then we'll have a late lunch at Lady Ekaterina's!" it announced.

"Bleugh…" groaned Loli, squeezing her eyes shut.

"We're in a lady's room without consent. This is _not_ a good idea," the third voice said nervously.

"Shut_up_ Whit, she can't throw us out. She's only tiny," the second voice snapped.

"Lo_li_ta, Lo_li_ta, Lo_li_taa, get our arse out of _bed_ ya," sung the first voice.

"Love the lyrics, they really touch me deeply," the second voice commented.

"I'm the new Bob Dylan," the first voice said sarcastically.

"Don't insult Dylan in my presence," Loli snapped, rolling under the covers.

"This isn't working that well," the second voice said. "I have a new idea!" it said gleefully, and the next moment Loli felt cool air suddenly envelope her, the blanket flying up into the air before it was thrown to the side.

"Bayh!" Loli squealed, curling up tightly to retain warmth.

"See? She's not naked," Richard determined, with a grin. "Cute pyjamas though, very _pink_. So you like pandas then?" he questioned, peering down at her huge, baggy pair of pink panda-face flannelette bottoms and matching cotton tee.

"Bite me, bitch," she snapped, squeezing her eyes shut again after poking her tongue out at him.

"Don't get me too excited!" Richard urged her. "Come on then, out of bed," he ordered her.

"Piss. Off."

"Ooh, she _is_ a stubborn one! Come on Loli, you've had at least twelve hours of sleep, it's time to get up," he continued.

"Piss. Off."

"I don't think I'm getting through to her," Richard commented.

"Oh he's a clever one," Loli retorted sarcastically. She squealed as Richard practically dive-bombed onto her bed, she nearly bounced right off its surface. "You bitch!" she cried, snuggling under the pillows, and further away from him.

"Quick! Someone sing 'Discovery Channel'!" he cried, shuffling closer to her. Chandra, who was the first voice, was giggling as she watched them.

"Help! Fire! Fire!" Loli cried frantically.

"Richard, you're being a complete and total idiot," snapped the third voice, Darcy, who was standing at the doorway of the room, watching his cousin with disapproval as he started to tickle Loli.

"Ha – no – fu – fuck _off_ Richard!" Loli squealed, pulling away, her body sliding off the bed and hitting the floor with a thud. "Leave me alone!" she demanded, rising up on her knees, glaring at Richard through stray locks of pale scarlet hair, her eyes flashing darkly with anger.

"Well, at least you're awake!" he pointed out cheerfully, his lips curved into a good-natured grin that spread from ear to ear. "Ready to go? I hear pandas are making a _huge_ fashion comeback," he commented cheekily. Loli rolled her eyes.

"And just for that comment – I'm dressing full Lolita today!" Loli cried, jumping to her feet, and pulling out a dress bag from the closet, before storming into the bathroom and slamming the door.

"Uhh… I'm missing something," Richard said dumbly. "So she's dressing Lolita… am I dressing Richard?" he questioned in confusion, staring up at his cousin, who only rolled his eyes, and walked out of the room. "Are you off to go dress Whit?" he cried after him. Chandra stifled laughter, and followed Darcy from the room.

True to her word, when Loli stepped into the kitchen a good twenty minutes later, she was wearing full Lolita, and Darcy couldn't help but think that she had never looked prettier.

He had done some research into Lolita fashion in some of his weakest moments over the past month, and could quickly categorise her look as a mixture of Sweet, Elegant, and Picnic Lolita. She wore a very pretty cream frock with a sort of rambling rosette garden print on it and pink trim on the hemline and the end of her petticoat beneath, and instead of wearing a blouse beneath the dress; she left her slender, ivory-skinned arms bare, except for her charm bracelet, tinkling happily around her wrist. The dress accentuated her small waist, and fanned out slightly around her hips, due to the petticoat. She wore white knee-high stockings and a pair of pink Mary Janes, her hair out, falling about her shoulders in lose curls.

But of course, Darcy didn't take in such detail, merely things like how the dress was a nice colour, how her almost bare shoulders looked, and how even with her heels, she was a fair bit shorter than him.

"My God! It's like Barbie and Anne of Green Gables procreated!" Richard cried, upon seeing Loli enter. "Is this the whole… 'Lolita' thing?" he asked curiously, circling her like a vulture to his prey.

"No, this is the whole 'Mad Hatters Tea Party' thing," she snapped sarcastically, rolling her eyes, clearly still upset at him for waking her. "Colin not coming?" she questioned Chandra curiously, looking up to her friend, who was taking her mobile phone off the charger.

"Oh no, he's busy with Lady Ekaterina today," she replied, hiding a smirk. "I love days like these," she sighed happily. Loli stifled laughter, and instead poked Richard in the stomach.

"Hey! I'm very sensitive there!" he cried, completely aghast.

"Well then, whose Squishy now?" she questioned pointedly. He rolled his eyes.

"Remind me never to wake a sleeping woman again," he said to Darcy.

"You never listen to me anyway, there's hardly any point," he snapped, before turning to Loli. "You might need a coat. Or just a cardigan," he advised. She rolled her eyes.

She had been so hopeful that perhaps all her assumptions about him had been wrong, and he _wasn't_ such a bad guy. But he was still just as controlling as ever.

"I'll be fine, I'm a big girl," she retorted, zipping up her handbag.

"Actually… not really," Richard commented, staring at her waist. "Seriously, are you wearing a corset? Where do your internal organs go?" he questioned incredulously. Loli rolled her eyes.

"I'm not wearing a whale-bone corset, just a light cotton one, it's a part of the petticoat," she explained. Richard shook his head in disbelief.

"We need to feed you up, girl," he said. Loli laughed, and tickled Richard's stomach.

"Why, so I can get a little belly like you?" she teased.

"Hey! I told you, I'm in my sixth month!" he giggled in response, stepping back, and patting his stomach. "It's baby weight. My doctor said it's natural," he defended. Loli laughed, and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. Sure. Right."

"It _is_, you bully," he sniffed, holding his head up high, but unable to hide his smile, creeping onto his face. He gave in after two second, and shook his head in laughter. "You know, you should swap names with Whit here. You've got much more than he has, he can be Lolita for a while," he suggested.

"Of course Richard, because I'm a nymphette that sleeps with adults," Darcy said sarcastically. Loli frowned slightly, and looked deep in thought. He looked over to Chandra, who was biting her lip, and staring at Loli with concern. Richard looked from Darcy to Loli in confusion. "I meant the character from the book, Lolita," he clarified, but she was still frowning.

"I know," she said softly, after a pause.

"I wasn't implying anything about you," he added, and she nodded.

"I know," she repeated quietly. He glanced over helplessly to Chandra, who was still looking at her friend with deep concern. "Let's go then, I feel like shopping," she declared, but her voice didn't really support her enthusiasm. She picked up her bag and walked through the kitchen to the front door of the apartment.

Darcy, Richard and Chandra followed in silence.

"It's a nice day," she commented, looking up at the clear morning sky.

"Oh yes, very nice!" Richard said quickly.

"Gorgeous, really," Darcy added.

"Oh yes, stunning," Chandra agreed. Loli glanced back at the trio, raised an eyebrow, before shaking her head.

"You're trying to hard," she informed them playfully, before she continued walking up the street, laughing as they followed.

The street wasn't hugely crowded, despite it being in the middle of tourist season, but it was still alive with vibrancy and excitement. They headed into the centre of town, stopping at a small, quiet little café overlooking the shoreline and crystal blue waters.

"_Bonjour Monsieur's, Mademoiselle's, vous désirez_?" the waiter questioned, approaching their table a few moments after they had sat down.

Darcy surprised Loli by replying in perfect French with their orders; even his accent was absolutely faultless. He could have easily been mistaken for one of the locals.

"So you didn't learn Japanese, but you're completely ace at French?" she questioned him, after the waiter had left. He shrugged.

"I can do European languages, and get my way through a fair bit of Mandarin," he replied simply.

"How many languages _can_ you speak?" she asked curiously. He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"_Well_, or manageably?" he asked in response.

"If you can book yourself into a hotel and get yourself deported, I classify that as knowing the language," she replied.

"Uhh… seven," he answered. Loli's eyes widened.

"_Seven_?" she repeated incredulously.

"Oh, no, eight," he corrected. "I learnt Latin in school," he informed her. She simply shook her head in disbelief. "What about you?" he asked.

"Well I'm very fluent in Japanese and French," she replied. "Not so much English. I'm still learning it a lot. I can speak Danish quite well too, but that's pretty much it," she explained. "I can manage a bit in Spanish, but not that much," she added.

"Your English is perfectly adequate," he informed her.

"Can you speak Icelandish?" Richard asked curiously.

"Uhh… that's not a language," she informed him, trying not to laugh.

"Oh. Drat. Are you sure?" he asked, frowning slightly. Loli let the laughter slip past her lips.

"Quite. I was born there, remember?" she reminded him.

"Did you know that _I_ can speak _two_ whole languages?" he questioned smugly. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"He knows five French swearwords and how to ask for the bathroom," he informed her quietly. Richard scowled.

"Lies! I can also say 'hello' and 'goodbye', and count to three!" he defended.

"Four is _quatre_, if you were interested," she informed him.

"See? I can count to _four_!" he boasted. Darcy just stared at him.

"How on earth did you graduate from Oxford?" he questioned in disbelief. Richard smirked.

"You're just jealous because _I_ got more girls than you did in college," he countered.

"I got more marks."

"I got more sex."

"I got more credentials."

"I got laid."

"I got honours."

"I got Harriet Lebrun."

"You also got VD."

"I did not!"

"That's not what Paulette Mitchell-Hill heard."

"You told Paulette Mitchell-Hill that I had VD?"

"No, I told her brother. That's why Simon Mitchell-Hill beat you up in your third year."

"I thought it was because he was jealous that I got Harriet Lebrun!"

"No one liked Harriet Lebrun. She wore her high-school uniform to college every day. She talked to flowers. The flowers didn't even exist and she still talked to them."

"I couldn't believe that you wouldn't be my second against Simon! He was nine-bloody-feet tall!"

"I was Simon's second."

Loli held her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. Chandra too was having difficulty keeping a straight face, Darcy on the other hand was perfectly calm, and throwing back every comment Richard made with ease.

"You're a wanker."

"I'd much rather wank than sleep with Harriet Lebrun."

"She was really nice!"

"Oh I know she was nice, she was spoke very politely to the garden gnomes and always held eye contact, which is difficult when the person you're talking to is invisible."

"Now you're just mocking me."

"Why are you implying that I ever stopped?"

"You little piece of –"

"May I remind you that there are ladies present?"

"No, you may _not_."

"Oh well then, please proceed. Use one of those French curse-words you memorised so vigilantly."

"Sarcastic little snot."

"It's hardly kind to address me with the pet-name your mother gave you."

"Keep my mother out of this! And your face!"

"Ouch. That actually hurt. I might need a medic for that one."

"Yeah? Well – you can just go and get laid by your dog's mothe-"

"Now Richard, don't bring your whore into this."

Loli and Chandra were practically rolling on the floor by this stage, clutching their sides.

"You guys have to stop, or we'll _die_," Loli gasped. Richard smirked.

"I have that effect on women," he boasted.

"But for entirely the wrong reasons," Darcy threw in. Loli clamped her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. Darcy glanced over at her, but did not smile, instead, his eyes softened slightly, and he didn't look so severe.

"Seriously Richard, Whit just won. Don't try anymore," Chandra advised. Richard pouted.

"He always wins! Bastard!" he cried, glaring at his cousin, who only looked smug.

"Quiet Richard, I can never take you anywhere respectable," he snapped as the waiter approached; a tray full of their orders. Loli accepted her large cup of coffee and bowl of strawberries and yogurt with a quiet thanks, her eyes on the coffee, everything else proving to be a distraction.

"Sure you don't want to inject that into your veins there, hun?" Richard questioned, staring at her as she took a large sip.

"I no longer have blood. I have coffee," she replied.

"What are you going to do when strawberries go out of season?" Darcy asked her curiously. She shrugged.

"Move to Australia," she replied simply.

"Sounds like a reasonable plan, you can jump on the back of a kangaroo and hop around Ululooloo picking them," Richard commented. Darcy stared at him.

"You've _clearly_ never been to Australia."

"Of course not. I don't have to. I have Jedi mind powers, remember?"

"They don't use kangaroos as a form of transportation, and not _everyone_ is within '_hopping_' distance of _Uluru_."

"Lies. It's a big rock. It's a _really_ big rock."

"In the middle of the country. It's a _big_ country. A _really_ big country."

"So that's why they need kangaroos to travel around!"

"If there were an Australian sitting at this table right now, they probably would have hit you."

"That's quite alright, we own them anyway."

"_You_ own a house and a car. You don't own a country."

"Hey, I have an Xbox 360!"

"That your mother gave you."

"See? You're _always_ bringing my Mum into this."

"I bring your mother into our arguments almost as much as your communicable diseases."

"I don't really have VD, by the way," Richard muttered to Loli, who rolled her eyes.

"Sure. You've just got cooties," she retorted sarcastically.

"Which is the fifth-grader term for HIV," Darcy commented casually, sipping his coffee. Richard scowled into his tea.

"You're a horrible, horrible man, Whit," he said pointedly.

"And you're a horrible, horrible man too, Richard," he replied. Richard only rolled his eyes in response.

"Do you get the feeling that these two are really brothers, and they've been doing this all their life?" Chandra commented to Loli.

"We lived together for years, you know," Richard informed her. "When he was little he would spend the holidays at Matlock, and we had an apartment together in Oxford," he added.

"That's so cute, so did you guys fall in love over cramming sessions then?" Loli teased, as Richard burst into laughter.

"Yes, but of an entirely different kind," he said sneakily. Darcy's eyes widened, and he scowled at his cousin.

"You have to bring sex into everything, don't you," he snapped.

"I'll keep sex out of this if you keep my mother and my dog out of this," he bartered.

"I can keep your mother out of it, but unfortunately your sex life and your dog just go hand in hand," he responded, as quick as a flash. Loli hid back laughter by pressing a hand to her mouth. "Are you alright?" Darcy asked her curiously, only making her laugh more.

"She actually finds you _amusing_, Whit," Richard exclaimed. "I know, it's shocking, can't imagine why," he added. "And Chandra too! Wow, you look like your dying, Chan," he commented, glancing over at the woman with slight concern.

"Why can't you ever be funny at work?" Loli asked Darcy, still fighting off the irresistible urge to start giggling.

"I – I'm not being funny," he said simply, his eyebrows knitting together.

"This is how we act all the time, Squishy," Richard informed her pleasantly.

"Not being _funny_? You're friggen hilarious!" Chandra exclaimed to Darcy, who shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"Hardly," he replied. He looked so ridiculously awkward that Loli pushed her bowl of strawberries towards him to break the tension. He took one in silence.

"Ah, poor little boy, he has no self-esteem whatsoever," Richard threw in happily. "I beat it out of him. But unfortunately, he's become good at fighting back," he added with slight annoyance.

"Why would you have low self-esteem?" Loli asked curiously.

"I don't," Darcy snapped. Loli almost bristled in irritation; she hated it when he was snappy with her. "_You_ clearly have no self-esteem, which is probably why you wear what you wear, to get attention," he added coolly, looking her up and down.

Loli scowled.

"Well it's good to know exactly what you think of me," she snapped. "I'm sorry if you're so insecure that you can't even drink a cup of coffee without insulting your cousin and your employee to make you feel better about yourself, but that's not my problem," she finished pointedly, standing up, and storming away from the table angrily.

As she walked, she resisted the urge to hit herself over the head. She had no idea where she was going, and after her childish display she couldn't go back to the table, she was wandering around an unfamiliar town by herself.

Then again, she thought, she was wandering around an unfamiliar town by herself. She loved those sorts of adventures, and after a little while, it wouldn't be so unfamiliar. She started to walk down main street at a reasonable pace, looking around in the shop windows and taking in the sights and smells of the area with delight.

"Lolita, wait!" she heard a call behind her. She rolled her eyes. She did _not_ want to see Darcy at that moment. She didn't even glance back, just kept on walking, hoping he would get the message.

She realised, when he was pulling on her elbow to get her to turn around, that he hadn't.

"I had every right to walk away, Darcy," she snapped, glaring at him fiercely.

"Why do you always have to take everything I say the wrong way?" he asked her with irritation visible on his face. Loli rolled her eyes, and hid back a scoff.

"How was that meant any other way than insulting?" she asked pointedly. He ran a hand through his hair, and avoided her eyes. "Yeah, I thought so," she muttered bitterly, turning away from him again.

"Let me make it up to you," he said suddenly. Loli stopped walking, and turned around, frowning. "Dinner. You. Me. I – I'd like to talk to you about something," he explained.

"I'm doing those Bose illustrations as fast I can, you know," she informed him pointedly.

"I – it's not about work," he muttered. Loli felt her frown turn into a look of confusion. Darcy sighed, and muttered so quietly that she almost couldn't hear him, "you know very well what it's about."

Loli hid back a look of surprise. Could he be confessing to ruining Jamie's life, she wondered?

"That Aunt of yours probably isn't going to let us have an evening outside of her presence, you know," she said, hoping that it meant he would remove his offer. She didn't want to have dinner with him; she didn't want to have anything to do with him. She was _trying_ to look at him with a clear slate, but he kept on reminding her of how much she disliked him.

"She always has dinner at Mrs Croix's place on Saturday nights," he informed her. Loli blinked. Even though it was only Tuesday, Saturday was seeming far too close. "Saturday it is," he declared, placing a hand on her elbow, and walking back to the café.

"Hey, I don't have to go back there if I don't want to!" she cried in annoyance. He rolled his eyes.

"If you get lost then I'll have to change my plans for Saturday," he replied. She scowled, but didn't pull away.

Perhaps it was something about how warm he was making her arm feel.

**A/N: You know what I want… reviews! I'm hungry for reviews! *nom nom nom***


	27. Kiss and Tell

**A/N: I'm so sorry that I couldn't update sooner, but I couldn't log in for days! It was so weird, did this happen to anyone else? I'm glad it's up again, but that was a long wait, lol :S So I have a nice long chapter to make up for the wait, I hope you like it :D**

It didn't matter how Loli spent her time, but Saturday came far too quickly for her liking. Most days she was sitting in Lady Ekaterina's parlour as she lectured her about proper posture, how to drink a cup of tea, and how to apply lipstick in such a manner that will land you a man with fifty million a year.

She was beginning to think that perhaps, the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was an indication that she would prefer another lecture to having dinner with Darcy.

"Wear the blue dress, Loli!" Chandra insisted, pulling out the blue Gucci dress Humbert had given her.

"I don't know where he's taking me, it's too formal," she replied, pulling out a pair of jeans from the wardrobe.

"Oh no, _no_, not jeans. You can't wear jeans out on a date with Whit Darcy!" she cried, her expression completely aghast.

"Is this one of those 'you can't wear white after labour day' things, or one of those 'you can't stick your hand in a blender' things?" she asked curiously, tossing the jeans down on the bed, and pulling out a mint green Mary Magdalene dress.

"It's one of those 'if you try you'll die' things," Chandra replied pointedly, crossing her arms. "And no Lolita. You're twenty-one years old. Haven't you gotten over it yet?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips and giving her friend her best death-glare. Loli flipped her scarlet hair over her shoulder and sniffed.

"Certainly _not_," she replied coolly, but a twitch in her lips betrayed her true emotions. "I like feeling like a kid. The world seems life much more of an adventure if you think about it immaturely," she commented, rifling through her dresses with disinterest. Chandra rolled her eyes in response.

"That's a lovely philosophy, but when it comes down to it, you can't be immature about _every_ aspect of life," she reminded her. Loli sighed.

"I'm trying, I really am," she confessed. "It's hard to break a lifetime of habit. But I can grow up, I know I can," she said firmly.

"Does that mean you'll stop dressing like a cupcake?" Chandra questioned hopefully. Loli snorted in laughter.

"Yeah. Right. Like _that's_ ever going to happen," she retorted sarcastically, with a grin. "Darcy probably just wants to talk to me about work or something, maybe about that whole thing with Clarkson, it's not a date," she pointed out. "And because it's not a date, I don't need to dress up," she justified, pulling forth a pale blue jumper skirt. Chandra only rolled her eyes, and pulled out her mobile, dialling a number with haste.

"Hey Richard, it's Chandra," she said, holding the phone up to her ear. "Yeah, I just wanted to know where Whit's taking Loli tonight, she's dressing for a church meeting or something," she said. Loli poked her tongue out at her friend, and continued looking through her clothes. She watched Chandra's mouth drop and eyes widen with curiosity, before she spoke again. "Oh… wow. Jeez, well, _that's_ not a tee and jeans kind of joint," she muttered. "Alright, thanks for that Richard, I'll see you soon," she finished, before hanging up the phone.

"Alright, what's the damage?"

"He's taking you to _L'eau Claire_," Chandra replied, putting the phone down on the dresser. "The most expensive, amazing, _romantic_ restaurant in the Riviera," she continued.

"Okay, so the dress jeans?" Loli responded with, holding up a dark blue pair of bootlegs. Chandra simply shook her head.

"No way. _No_, I'd be murdered if I let you leave this room in anything short of a full-length ball gown," she said firmly.

"So Himeloli?" she replied with, pulling out one of her 'Princess Lolita' dresses.

"Lolita Gardiner – stop being an idiot! You can't just turn up to one of the best restaurants in the world in a bloody cream-puff!" she snapped. Loli frowned for a moment, before averting her eyes from her friend.

"Fine then. I'll be mature about this. What do you suggest I wear, Chandra, dear?" she asked, stepping back from her wardrobe and gesturing with flourishing arms to the assortment of clothes. Chandra stepped up immediately, and pulled out the powder blue Gucci dress, pushing it into her arms.

"This," she said firmly.

"Oh come on, this dress must be worth five thousand pounds! I can't wear it outside – what if it –" she began, but was silenced by Chandra's upheld hand.

"No, I'm not hearing it. Get in there, and put the dress on," she ordered. Loli sighed, but didn't resist.

"If you say so, oh mighty one," she replied, taking the dress, before stepping into the bathroom, and closing the door.

Chandra slipped out of her friend's room, hoping not to alert Colin to her presence, but the effort was unnecessary, he was working on the du Bourg accounts, and refused to be distracted, in case he made an error and displeased his master. She headed into the front room, grabbing a copy of French _Vogue_ and flipping it open as she relaxed into the stylish couch.

The last few days had been amusing for her. Loli's reaction to Lady Ekaterina was one of intense dislike, combined with some sort of dread and a bit of fear, but she'd never admit it herself. Loli would do practically anything to be out of the woman's presence, the only person she seemed to dislike as much as she did the Ladyship was Fitzwhitlam Darcy – ever since they arranged a dinner together they had both been avoiding each other like the plague.

Chandra couldn't help but smile softly to herself. It was so obvious that they were perfect for each other, Loli a little bit immature, Whit a little bit demanding and a little too aware of his high place in society, but she was certain that they could overcome their differences. Loli needed to grow up, and Whit needed to shed a few years, but they had a definite chance of happiness.

_Not like me_, she couldn't help but think. She sighed. The worst of it was that she didn't feel guilty for using Colin in such a way. They both understood the arrangement, it suited each other's needs, they weren't happy, they were content.

But did she want content, or did she want happiness?

The doorbell rung, and she stood to get it, pondering the thought. Happiness… what _was_ it? Had she ever felt it? She pulled open the door, unsurprisingly Darcy stood behind it, looking practically edible in a nicely cut black suit and silk cravat. _Not one for the ties, is he_? she thought to herself, pasting on a smile.

"Whit! It's good to see you, you look very smart," she greeted. Darcy forced a sort of pained smile by way of greeting.

"Miss Lucas," he acknowledged, nodding. Chandra stepped back, and gestured that he come inside. He stepped in, looking a bit awkward, glancing around the place with unease.

"Loli isn't quite ready yet, but she shouldn't be long," Chandra informed him brightly.

"That's… uh, quite alright," Darcy managed to get out. "She – umm, she isn't wearing – uh, I mean to say, she's not wearing –" he tried to say, but Chandra smiled knowingly, and shook her head.

"No, you're safe. No ribbons, bows, lace, and no jeans and sneakers, either," she informed him. He sighed in relief.

"Good," he said simply.

"She's wearing a light blue silk Gucci dress that she got from her secret admirer, you're in for a treat, she looks stunning in it," she assured him.

"She consented to this?" he questioned doubtfully. Chandra shrugged.

"Well… I admit that it wasn't her first pick, but it's much more appropriate," she replied. He nodded.

"I – uh, I was going to get flowers, but… I thought it was a bit… she just doesn't seem one for the – for the clichés, you see," he tried to inform her.

"She probably wouldn't have liked the flowers. I mean, she likes flowers, but she doesn't like clichés, you're right," she replied knowingly. "And you're going to _L'eau Claire_, apparently," she added brightly, and he nodded, shifting awkwardly.

"Uh… I thought she might like it," he shrugged, wincing slightly, as if movements of a casual, light nature were foreign to him. "Is she – err, well, is she wearing her hair down?" he asked, raising his head slightly, and then averting all eye contact, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm not sure. She might, I guess it'll be a surprise then," she replied. He nodded slowly, and looked like he was about to say something, when they heard the sounds of a door opening and closing.

"I don't care what you say, Chan, but I'm wearing my strawberry pendant necklace. Not the good one, but the one I got at the toy store on Thursday," Loli's voice announced, walking into the living room. She spotted Darcy, then glanced back to her friend. "Flats, or heels?" she asked, holding up two pairs of shoes, Joan's black Jimmy Choos that matched the black and white cameo around her neck, right along with a comical plastic strawberry on a cheap chain, or a pair of sequined blue ballet flats with a giant pink bow on the ends.

"The heels," Chandra said instantly. Loli inspected them, frowning slightly.

"I dunno, I like the bows on these," she commented, holding forth the flats. Chandra rolled her eyes.

"Wear the heels, Loli," she ordered firmly.

"What do you think? Heels, or flats?" she asked, turning to Darcy, who instantly pointed to the heels. Her face fell. "Really? No one likes the bows?" she asked hopefully.

"It's not the bows I have a problem with, it's just that that many sequins make them look like a prop from _Priscilla_," he informed her. Her face fell.

"Fine then. I'll wear the heels," she muttered bitterly.

"And lose the necklace, hun," Chandra advised. Loli scowled.

"But it has lettered beads! They say 'HUG ME'!" she defended, but the look on her friend's face let her know that it wasn't going to happen. She rolled her eyes. "I knew that I couldn't get out of here wearing them, but it was still worth the try," she grinned, sitting on the couch to pull the shoes on. "Be with you in a moment, Darcy," she added briefly.

"Good to know you remember I'm here," he drawled. Loli rolled her eyes.

"He's a funny one, Chan," she said, turning back to her friend. "Can I borrow your shiny black bag?" she asked hopefully.

"You have a black bag!" Chandra cried, exasperated. "And my bag isn't just_ any_ shiny black bag, it's _Marc Jacobs_!" she added.

"Precisely the reason why I want to borrow it," Loli grinned. Chandra only bristled and grabbed her back from the coat rack by the door, emptying its contents on the coffee table (which she knew was a bad idea, but she did anyway). She grabbed Loli's Birkin bag from the rack too, and dumped its contents into hers with little delicacy. "Thanks for that, Chan-Chan," she said, standing up.

"I take cash and checks," Chandra replied smoothly.

"Sorry, I'm running on plastic. Another time then," Loli countered, picking up the bag, and kissing her friend on the top of her head.

"Have her back by ten, young man, it's a school night," Chandra said warningly to Darcy, who was helping a slightly reluctant Loli into her coat. He merely nodded. Loli sent one last pleading glance to Chandra, who only rolled her eyes, before the two turned to the door, and stepped out of the apartment.

Loli glanced at Darcy awkwardly. They were standing in the completely empty elevator, as far away from each other as could be. He was looking straight ahead at the closed doors with determination on his face.

"So… fancy restaurant," she stated. Darcy glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow.

"That's what they put on the brochure," he drawled sarcastically. She rolled her eyes. She was trying, she really was!

"Seems a bit much for one of your employees, particularly such a low and irritating one as me," she added. Darcy returned his eyes to the closed doors of the elevator.

The doors slid open, and Darcy stepped out, leaving Loli's statement unchallenged. She followed him into the lobby, and out to the street in silence. It wasn't until he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and pressed the unlock button, hazard lights flashing briefly, that she spoke again.

"Oh my _God!_ This is your _car_?" she cried, staring at the thing in wonder.

It was the same creamy sport thing that she had seen in the Rosings carport the first night she came, it was stunningly beautiful. Really. It looked just perfect, and if she knew anything about cars, she would probably change her name to whatever it was called.

"It's a Bugatti Veyron," he informed her. She blinked.

"Those are good, right?" she questioned, frowning slightly.

"No, not really, they're more like a box with wheels, really," he replied sarcastically as the approached the gleaming beacon of beauty.

"Are you mocking me?" she asked, frowning.

"No, of course not. Never," he replied, in the same tone. "The car really is quite crap."

"How much did it _cost_?" she asked, not able to remove her eyes from the vehicle.

"Almost nine hundred thousand pounds, but it wasn't worth it. I have to fill it up every thirty seconds," he explained.

Loli's eyes widened in shock.

"_Nine hundred thousand pounds_?" she exclaimed. "Bloody hell. _Why_?" she questioned, in utter disbelief. He shrugged.

"They said it was good on Top Gear," he rationalised. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Crazy. You're mad, absolutely mad," she announced. "No, that's wrong, you're just stupidly rich," she corrected herself. Darcy gave another shrug, and pulled open the passenger door for her.

"Probably," he only said. Loli slid into the red leather interior, wondering if she was really going to make it through the night. She had decided to try and give Darcy a new slate to work with, but he had to work to get into her good books. She wasn't a pushover.

One fight over a radio station, one small argument about the colour red verses the colour pink _("Pink _is_ red! Pink is just a lighter shade of red!" Darcy cried, completely exasperated. Loli only rolled her eyes, and stuck out her tongue_.), one terrifyingly powerful drive through the Riviera, and they were in the restaurant lobby, a bumbling little man rushing to find their table.

"I'm telling you, pink is _just_ the same as red, only a little lighter," Darcy hissed.

"You're a guy. You _have_ to say that," she countered. He sighed wearily.

"Remind me _never_ to argue with you again," he muttered.

"Not going to happen. I can argue with my_self_, you don't stand a chance," she replied. Darcy was about to say something when their little bumbling man returned, eager to seat his expensive client and his guest.

They followed him through the lavishly decorated room, with gilded architraves and renaissance style silk wall coverings, ever last detail screaming expense and good taste. It was breathtaking. They were led to a small balcony overlooking the ocean, it had a few other tables, mostly couples, but the nicest of tables was awaiting them.

"Wow… pretty…" she muttered, as a white-suit clad waiter pulled out her chair for her, and she took a seat at the intimate little setting, complete with candles and roses. "Classy," she added, as Darcy took a seat.

"_Je voudrais le carte des vins_, _s'il vous plaît_," Darcy said to the waiter, who nodded, handed them a menu each, a wine list to Darcy, and then disappeared. "Any wine preferences?" he asked her briefly.

"Uh… the pink stuff is nice," she shrugged. He rolled his eyes.

"I'll chose," he decided, flipping it open.

"Wow. This is _really_ pricey," Loli muttered, staring at the price lists for meals.

"Not particularly. Reasonable, I'd say," Darcy replied simply.

"You're a billionaire. I pay rent," she reminded him. "_This_ is expensive," she declared.

"It's a matter of perspective. Don't worry about the price, as you said, I'm a billionaire, it doesn't matter to me," he countered, with a slight edge.

"Is it nice, being able to buy whatever you want?" she asked him curiously. He glanced up at her for a moment.

"Money doesn't buy everything. I'm becoming increasingly aware of that fact," he informed her.

"I mean, if you see a pair of shoes you like, or a nice watch or something, you can just pick it up and buy it," she explained. "I think it'd be nice," she muttered.

"I don't know anything different, so I can't say," he admitted. "Perhaps, I suppose. But it's rare that I want something that money can't buy, so I guess that it is nice," he explained.

"What do you do when you can't buy something that you want?" she asked him curiously. "I mean, you don't really seem like the kind of guy that would go without if something is a bit difficult to get," she added. He looked up at her again.

"I'm not," was his simple reply. "I tend to get what I want."

Loli didn't really know what to say next. His response left her lacking a comeback.

"Anything that interests you?" he asked her, glancing back to the menu.

"Uh… I'm not sure," she muttered, frowning, quickly turning back to the menu.

"The gnocchi is apparently nice," he offered.

"Uh, okay then," she agreed, closing the menu. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"I'll order, shall I?" he suggested.

"No complaints here," Loli replied coolly, leaning back comfortably in her chair, and staring out into the midnight blue waters.

"You look nice, by the way," Darcy commented. She glanced up and over at him, he was examining the menu.

"I – uh, thank you?" she replied awkwardly, fingering a strand of her long scarlet curls, dangling around her shoulders in spiral tresses.

"It's a nice dress. You look nice in blue," he added, and she glanced down. She did love that dress…

"It's from my stalker," she informed him, with a small smile.

"He has good taste," he replied. "Or she. You can't be too certain," he threw in. She rolled her eyes.

"No, I think it's a man. Possibly with someone advising him, but I'm almost certain it's a man," she declared. "What do you make of it?" she asked curiously. He looked up at her.

"The dress? I'd say it's quite… blue," he replied. Loli rolled her eyes.

"I meant _Humbert_," she clarified.

"I think you need to be careful," he confessed. "Just… don't accept a bomb into your home because it has a blue box and a pink ribbon," he urged her.

"I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were."

"You're being bossy again."

"Probably because I'm your boss. And I'm not being bossy, I'm trying to look after you," he stated. Loli blinked.

"Look after me?" she frowned.

"Yes, look after you. Stop you from getting killed. Its quite clear that people don't even try to look after you anymore, because you probably bite their heads off, but I for one am not afraid," he countered. "And I will continue to make sure you're alive for as long as necessary. You're a good designer," he added, turning a page in the menu, before glancing up to Loli, noting her confused expression. "Oh come now, have you seriously never had anyone who was simply concerned about your welfare?" he questioned.

"Of course I do. Joan," she replied. "And… well, my mother, my stepfather," she continued.

"Your father? Your stepmother?" he probed.

"Of course. Yeah. I forgot about them," she muttered, turning her gaze back to the ocean. They were both quiet a moment, before Darcy spoke.

"I think we can order now," he announced. He gestured for a waiter and ordered their meal and wine, before the man disappeared once more. Loli hummed very quietly to the tune of the violin music drifting out to them, fingering a rose petal and smiling softly.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked curiously. She had contemplated everything he could possibly wish to discuss with her, work, even though he said it wasn't about work, revealing his side of the story about Jamie Wickham, telling her who her stalker and possible attempted killer is, announcing that she could return to England, or maybe even telling her the truth about his interference with Joan and Cale.

She tried to push those thoughts from her mind. She was supposed to be starting afresh with Darcy, trying not to judge him for being socially inept. She couldn't leap to conclusions.

"I – uh, let's just enjoy our evening, okay?" he suggested nervously, avoiding her eyes. Loli hid back the urge to pout. She had been looking forwards to finding out why Darcy was acting so differently by taking her to dinner, but now the mystery had been snatched from beneath her nose. She might never find out if he refused to tell her. "How are you enjoying France?" he enquired.

"I _have_ been to France before, you know," she pointed out.

"I'm well aware."

"I'm enjoying myself quite a lot. It's quite nice here," she sighed. Darcy nodded. "And yourself?" she questioned.

"It's nice. Good," he replied.

"Soooooooooo……" she murmured. "I like this restaurant. I like this beach. I like this shade of cream," she announced, inspecting the table cloth with interest.

"Right."

"Your turn to say something," she informed him. He blinked in confusion.

"I didn't know we were taking turns. Do you always talk when you're supposed to be enjoying the scenery or the music?" he asked in response.

"Oh no, you see, I like to be as quiet as possible and glare at everyone," she explained cheerfully. "It makes _every_ day like Christmas," she said with false delight.

"Some people might call you bitter."

"Some people might call you British."

"Some people might call you childish, irrational, stubborn, and tempestuous."

"I prefer the term 'female'," she replied thoughtfully.

"How can you be so severe on your own sex?" he questioned, but she merely shrugged.

"We aren't _all_ five foot eleven with golden hair, blue eyes and a sweet disposition, even as we're slaving over stoves and tucking the children into bed," she retorted.

"Are you still upset about my Aunt's analysis of the 'perfect woman'?" he questioned, frowning slightly. Loli rolled her eyes, recalling an evening a few nights ago where Lady Ekaterina completely took Loli apart, lecturing her on how completely opposite she was to perfection, not like her daughter Anastasia, of course.

"Why, of course not. Because women are understanding; dot point number fifty-three million two hundred thousand and thirty-two, right?" she replied. "Honestly, what does she do when you bring home a brunette who _can't_ fit into size zero?" she asked.

"Funnily enough, she doesn't mind dark hair. Probably because Ana is a brunette," he replied thoughtfully.

"You do realise that she described Clarity Bingley to perfection, right?" she clarified. She almost laughed at his visible wince.

"Yes… that did dawn upon me," he muttered.

"So have you ever dated, say, a girl with black hair who wears a size six?" she asked curiously. "Or a guy? I'm not really sure," she teased.

"I've told you before, I'm not gay!" he insisted. Loli rolled her eyes. "And even though it's none of your business, I have dated women who don't fit into my Aunt's description of the perfect woman. She had black hair," he countered.

"Wow, you rebel you. Ever dated a redhead? Because that would kill her. Do you see how she looks at me because I'm a redhead?" she questioned.

"No, I haven't, and she doesn't disapprove of you because you're a redhead," he retorted. Loli hummed.

"Sure. Well, like I said before, your turn to start a topic," she announced.

"This is really quite unusual, but what do you want me to say?" he asked, as the waiter approached with the wine, pouring it into their glasses.

"I'm not sure. We can't talk about religion, literature or politics, because we're in polite society, but why don't we give music a whirl?" she suggested. The waiter left the table, leaving the wine behind.

"I don't listen to a lot of music," he replied simply.

"Sicko."

"I don't have the time!" he defended. "I _like_ music, I just never seem to get around to it," he explained.

"What do you like?" she asked.

"Uh… mostly piano music. Yiruma, Dario Marianelli, Keith Jarrett, Herbie Hancock, that sort of thing," he explained.

"Can you play?" she asked curiously. He shook his head.

"No, I learnt a little when I was young, but I never caught onto it," he answered. "Gigi does though, my sister, that is," he informed her.

"Tell me about Gigi," she requested, before sipping her wine.

"Uh… she's a bit older than you, taller too, blonde, that sort of thing," he began. "She's very clever. Shy, but clever. She has a degree in Linguistics, she wants to be an ancient text translator, and she's studying part time come Winter to get her Masters," he continued, pride seeping into his tone. "She lives at Pemberley most of the time, but she'll be in London to study. She has a little boy, Callum, he'll be a year old in a few months, she plays the piano quite well, she doesn't dress like a porcelain doll, and she likes pancakes," he finished. Loli raised an eyebrow.

"She sounds nice," she replied.

"Yes, she's lovely," he affirmed.

"So she's blonde? I can't picture you having blonde relatives," she said thoughtfully, looking at Darcy, trying to see past his ridiculous attractiveness.

"My mother had blonde hair, my father dark. Gigi is very fair, she inherited it from my mother's side," he explained.

"But your cousin is dark, not fair," Loli frowned.

"Ana got that from her father. My Aunt is fair," he stated. Loli started to giggle. "What?" he questioned, frowning slightly in his confusion.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to picture you blonde," she laughed, tilting her head. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"How do I look?" he asked with casually, sipping his wine.

"Like your name is Sven and you live in the Swiss Alps herding mountain goats," she answered.

"Oh, lovely," he replied sarcastically.

The evening continued in an almost tolerable fashion, the food was amazing, the service was excellent, on a few occasions Darcy gave something slightly resembling a smile, and by the time they were getting in the car so Darcy could drive her home, he didn't even resist when she put loud indie garage bands of the late 70s.

"I'm sure that I'd like them if they didn't have as much yelling," he assured her, pulling the car to a stop outside the apartment building that Colin was living in.

"But that's the whole beauty of it!" she explained. "The fact that it's so shouty you think you'd hate it, but you actually love it," she continued. Darcy shook his head, and gave a small smirk.

"You're quite mad," he informed her, opening his car door, and sliding out.

"Hang on, are you going to open the door?" she asked him curiously.

"That was the intent," he replied, leaning his head down back into the car for a moment.

"I can open it myself, you know," she reminded him.

"You could, but it isn't necessary," he countered.

"I bet I'll beat you," she challenged.

"I get a head start," he declared. "Wait a second and a half, and then open it," he ordered her.

"Ready steady go!" she cried, as Darcy pushed shut his own door. Loli waited a second and a half before grabbing the handle, but the door pulled open seemingly of its own accord. "I had my hand on the handle," she informed him.

"And yet I opened it," he countered, helping her out of the car.

"You aren't going to be cliché and walk me to the door, are you?" she questioned, frowning slightly.

"Yes. I am."

"Afraid I'll get lost?"

"Yes. I am."

"Is that all you say?"

"Yes. It is," he said, with a smirk. Loli rolled her eyes.

"Fine then, up we go," she announced, walking up the steps to enter the lobby. It was warm and filled with yellow light, a stark contrast compared to the dark streets outside. Loli headed over to the elevator and pressed the button, before turning back to Darcy. "I can manage from here," she assured him.

"I'm perfectly aware of that," he replied, stepping into the elevator as the doors slid open. Loli rolled her eyes and followed him in. The doors closed, and they were met with quiet taped classical music as the lift travelled up the building.

"I hate to admit it, but I kind of enjoyed myself," she murmured.

"If you rephrased that sentence I might have believed that you," he replied. Loli laughed, and shook her head.

"Sorry, I forgot about the male ego," she said sarcastically, just as the doors slid open once again. She stepped forwards, on another two steps from the front door to Colin's apartment. "This is my stop," she announced, pulling out a spare set of keys.

"I enjoyed myself too, you know," Darcy informed her, after slight hesitation. He let the fact slip out as if he were admitting something painful, and Loli resisted the urge to call him out. He had made progress in her books, she reminded herself. She couldn't expect him to become a normal human being in one night.

"I have that effect on all around me," she replied, looking up at him with a confident smirk. The smirk was really hiding sudden awkwardness, she couldn't invite him in, did she just ask him to leave now?

"Sleep well," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder for a moment. Unexpectedly, he leant forward and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.

Loli didn't know who turned into who. She had a suspicion that it was her, but for the sake of her sanity, she couldn't even comprehend that. All she knew was that one moment Darcy's lips were on her cheek, and the next they were on hers.

She stiffened, and she felt Darcy tense against her, but her brain wasn't connecting to her lips, and when he relaxed she didn't pull away, only responded to the movement of his lips against hers. She felt him tentatively raise a hand, stroking her curls softly with the back of his hand, before cupping her cheek with it, and kissing her more insistently. She couldn't stop her arms from rising, and finding their places on his chest. His lips tugged instantly on hers, requesting her mouth to open for him.

What could a girl do when she was standing in a dark hallway, snogging or being snogged by her boss, probably the most attractive man in Great Britain _and_ the South of France, knowing full well that it was _not_ what should be happening? What _could_ she do, finding herself being pressed against the closed door to her close friend's odious boyfriend's apartment?

Feeling the wall press against her back was a wakeup call, and she immediately snapped out of the trance she was in. She pulled her lips away from Darcy's, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath warm and heavy, his arms wrapped around her waist, and he was making no attempts to move them. He stepped back, loosening his grip, but still not letting go.

"I –" he tried to begin, but Loli shakily pulled away, fumbling with her keys, pushing them into the lock. She slipped inside as quickly as she could, and closed the door behind her. She leant against the firm surface and slid to her knees, visibly shaking; her breathing quick and ragged. Her eyes were wide, her skin pale, and she couldn't believe what had just happened.

"Oh _God_," she whispered unsteadily to herself. "Oh, I've really screwed it up now," she whispered quietly, squeezing her eyes tightly together, and clenching her fists.

What had she done?

**A/N: Ooooooooooooh snap. Hehehe. I like doing that. Thank you everyone for all of the reviews, please keep them coming! I love you all very much :D**


	28. Veneer

**A/N: Okay, so even though it wasn't my fault that I couldn't update over the last few days, I'm updating again tonight, due to popular request :D And yes, there **_**will**_** be Hunsford in this, I wouldn't deny that of you, but it's going to have plenty of twists :D I loved writing this scene, dancing around between two characters having entirely different conversations with each other is so much fun :D**

"Sora, I just kissed my boss."

"You stupid bitch. You wake me up at six AM to tell me that you're _finally_ getting some, whilst I'm still miserably single?" came an annoyed response from her best friend over the crackly long-distance phone line.

"Seriously, Sora, I just _kissed_ Whit Darcy! Or maybe he kissed me, I'm not sure… I don't know, but the point is, we kissed!" she exclaimed, trying to keep her voice low. She was sitting in the corner of the guest room in Colin's apartment, hoping desperately that she wouldn't wake up Chandra and Colin, because if Lady Ekaterina would find out, there would be blood.

"Hang on, so one moment you think he's a complete and total jerk, and the next you're kissing him?" questioned Sora incredulously. "Jeez girl, that multiple personality thing is getting old," she tutted.

"Sora! What the hell do I do! I – I _do_ still think he's a jerk, he _is_, I know he is, but we kissed!" she whispered quickly. "I mean, we _kissed_. This is so… oh my God, this is so _bad_," she moaned miserably.

"Wow, was he that crap at it?" Sora inquired curiously.

"No, the annoying thing is he was really good," Loli muttered, with irritation. "But it's bad because… he's my boss! And he's so – so – so –"

"What? Ridiculously handsome? Freakishly wealthy?" Sora offered.

"He's frustrating!" Loli cried decidedly, ignoring her best friend's suggestions. "He frustrates me, and I – my God, this is _so_ bad," she whispered again, resisting the urge to hit herself over the head or stick her stupid, treacherous tongue in a pencil sharpener. She pulled her knees up beneath her chin, curling up into a small ball.

"Listen, Loli, the thing is, it takes two people to kiss," Sora stated tiredly. "Chances are, he likes you, and doesn't know what to do about it. You've probably freaked him out already," she continued blankly.

"He doesn't like me."

"Oh, really? And how can you be sure of that, Sherlock?"

"Okay, you know _far_ too many Western pop-culture references to be Asian."

"I have cable. Now hurry up, give me your pitiful excuses."

"Well, for starters, he's always _staring_ at me with this look on his face, like he's completely and totally disgusted with me," she began. "And like he wants to see me burn in hell. It's very distinctive," she assured her.

"Right, and you've never heard of a 'smouldering gaze', have you?" she scoffed in response.

"Shutup. He's _glaring_ at me, not undressing me with his eyes," Loli retorted pointedly. "He also disagrees with pretty much everything I say, and constantly heaps me up with work and commissions," she continued.

"And he couldn't be doing this because he admires your skills as an artist, could it?" she questioned sarcastically. "Just a thought, you know," she added, her mocking tone not ceasing.

"Sora, I'm trying to be serious. I may have just made one of the biggest mistakes of my life, and you can't even be reasonable," Loli scolded, but her voice held little to no real reprimand. "Everything is going to be so awkward!" she cried in frustration.

"Does the company have rules about office romances?" Sora asked curiously.

"I don't know, why?"

"Well, it _would _be awkward if you guys dating is against the rules, but since he's your boss, I guess he can wave them," she explained. Loli was quiet for a moment.

"We aren't dating. We never will. We can't," she said finally.

"Don't you mean _you_ can't?" Sora replied pointedly. "Listen, I was there throughout your whole little fling with the Professor. You were cut up pretty badly. Don't you think that maybe you're letting it hold you back?" she asked tentatively.

"Why does everyone seem to think that my past relationship was such a tragedy? It was like a normal relationship, we met, we dated, we broke up," Loli snapped.

"Yeah, but six months after you broke up the Dean found out what had happened and dragged your ex to court," Sora offered her conversationally. Loli scowled.

"You're putting way too much psycho mumbo-jumbo into this. I can't be involved with my boss because _he's my boss_, he's also a complete jerk," Loli snapped.

"My _God_, we aren't going back to this _again_, are we?" Sora replied, exasperated. "I know that you don't really think he's a jerk. You're just saying that so you don't get too involved," she reprimanded. "You don't want to date him? Fine. Don't lead him along, keep conversation to a minimum, make sure he knows that you don't want a relationship. Then spent the next few months awkwardly avoiding each other," she advised. "Simple."

"Well, for once you're actually giving decent advice," Loli commented. "Thanks, Sora, and sorry about waking you up early," she sighed.

"That's alright, I'll wait until it's your four AM and give you a call," Sora replied cheerfully. Loli laughed, and they bid their goodbyes, hanging up the phone.

Loli turned off her mobile, and slid it across the floor.

She didn't want to move.

She just wanted to sit, and forget everything that had happened in the last hour.

Unfortunately, we don't have that much power over our subconscious.

She awoke the next morning with a stiff neck, a sore back, and a pounding head, and that was _before_ the events of the night before had rushed back into her head. She groaned, and slid down to the ground, wincing in pain. Sleeping against a wall was _not_ a good idea, she thought to herself.

The morning light was blinding as it streamed through the window, making her eyes sting. She crawled to the bed awkwardly, slid up atop it, and gave a deep sigh, closing her eyes to the light, and indulging in the blurry limbo between sleep and the real world, where consciousness was not compulsory, and she didn't have to reprimand herself for her actions.

"Oh Lo_li_taaaaaaaa!"

She groaned, and turned into the bed, lying on her stomach, burying her face in the pillows.

"Lo_li_ta!"

She gave another angry groan, and pulled the pillow over her head, grinding her teeth together in frustration.

"LO_LI_TA, GET YOUR ARSE OUT OF BED!"

Loli jumped up immediately, falling off the bed.

"Good, you're awake," Chandra said cheerfully from the doorway. "You've got about half an hour before we head over to Lady Ekaterina's, so have a shower, get changed, and then tell me _everything_ about last night," she said decidedly. Loli groaned.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said bitterly, rising unsteadily to her feet, practically drowning in her long red curls. "I hate this stupid hair! I want to cut it off!" she cried, pushing it back from her face. She kicked her Prada heels that lay on the floor, stumbling to the bathroom.

"Uh… Loli? Was it that bad?" Chandra asked incredulously.

"_Yes_, it was that bad. It was horrible," she snapped, before sighing. "I'll be ready in a minute," she said, closing the bathroom door.

"I do say, Miss Gardiner, I'm very pleased that you've finally come to your senses, and decided to dress like an _adult_," Lady Ekaterina commented about an hour later, sounding pleased with _herself_, rather than the young woman who sat on a window seat, her face pressed against the glass, staring out into the endless blue ocean, wearing a simple pale blue frock and a white short sleaved collared shirt beneath it, her hair held back in a low ponytail. It was still Lolita, but it certainly didn't look it without the frilly accessories. It just looked…

Simple. Mature. Understated.

Loli didn't respond, only continued to stare out the window. She didn't want to turn around, because Darcy was standing in the corner of the room, desperately trying to catch her eye.

"Are you ill, Miss Gardiner?" Lady Ekaterina questioned pointedly.

"Y – yes, I think so," Loli muttered, sliding off the seat, her head cast down to avoid looking at him. "I think that perhaps I need some fresh air," she said decidedly.

"Very well then, go for a walk on the grounds. They are superb, as I am constantly told," she said haughtily. Loli rolled her eyes, and slipped out of the room.

Darcy watched her go with a heavy heart. He needed to talk to her, he needed to make her understand… that no matter his feelings, they _couldn't_ be together, it was just impossible. But somehow he was quite sure that she knew that already…

Was that why she seemed so sad? So depressed? Because she knew that they were never going to be together?

He felt terrible. She was young. She had seen his attraction, and read too deeply into it. Young, pretty girls were very easily flattered; he had made an error in not leaving London sooner. Now they were both to suffer.

"Fitzwhitlam!" came Lady Ekaterina's sharp cry, and from the sound of her tone, she had been saying his name quite a few times.

"Yes, Aunt?" he questioned, snapping out of his momentary musings.

"My, has Miss Gardiner's rudeness become contagious?" she snapped pointedly, sending a cold glare at her nephew.

"I have a slight headache, Aunt," Darcy replied. "I'll go and get some Panadol," he announced, before slipping out of the room, ignoring his Aunt's pointed response.

She wasn't that far from the house, leaning against a large oak, her eyes closed, pale scarlet curls whipping around her face in the chilling wind, its invisible fingers pressing over her skin and the decidedly unspectacular pale blue frock she wore. He approached quietly, unable to shift his gaze from her pale, pained face.

"_Oh_!" she cried, her eyes snapping open when she heard his approach, his silent endeavour spoilt by a twig snapping beneath his foot. "M – Mister Darcy, I –" she stammered, her blue eyes wide. He would have found the entire display adorable, had he not been fighting an almost irresistible urge to do a repeat performance of last night's kiss.

"Miss Gardiner," he replied, his tone even and with just enough indifference to make it sound like he really wasn't bothered. He wondered when, and how, he had become so good at lying to himself and those around him, when lies were the one thing he despised above all else. He didn't want her to see the longing, desire, and pain in his expression, but he was quite certain that he was doing a pathetic job at hiding it. Perhaps he _wasn't_ as good a liar as he thought.

"I – I just wanted some air," she managed to get out, nervously pulling at the skirt of her dress.

"Yes, I – I was also in need of some… air…" Darcy replied awkwardly, trying not to catch her eye. Those endless blue depths would destroy the little self-control he had. "W – Would you walk with me for a little while?" he asked her nervously.

"I – okay," she murmured, after rather obvious hesitation.

He didn't talk.

She didn't talk.

It went on in such a silent manner that Darcy was one step away from bursting into flames with the sheer irritation of it, but he said nothing. He was very controlled, he prided himself on that.

"What do you think of the area?" he asked finally. Loli practically jumped, startled at the sudden questioning.

"It's nice. Far away, but nice," she replied slowly.

"For whom?"

"Chandra, of course. It's really far away from her family," she answered, some of her usual strength returning to her voice. He preferred it that way. When she was meek and quiet, she wasn't really Lolita, she was just… some girl with a pretty face.

"Well, that depends. It's only a few hours on a plane," he replied, after some small consideration. "Hardly anything, really. And what's a little bit of travel on a plane? All you do is sit there, it's hardly a difficult journey," he added.

"She isn't in the same country as her family. That seems pretty far to me," she argued.

"And you lived in Japan, by yourself, away from your family for two years, right?" he questioned her pointedly.

"It's not the same."

"It's exactly the same."

"I went for art school and for work."

"Chandra went for a relationship."

"What, and my reasons are insignificant?"

"What do you think of their relationship?" he asked her suddenly, his voice curious. Loli frowned at the sudden swerve of their conversation, but made no comment as to its change.

"I don't really think that's an appropriate question, do you?" she replied coolly.

"And you're the expert on what's appropriate, I suppose," Darcy snapped with irritation.

Loli stopped walked, and turned away from him. So he _did_ despise her for what had happened last night. She didn't care. He was a pig. It wasn't even her fault! She had had too much wine, she was fairly sure that _he_ turned into _her_, how could he blame her? _She_ pulled away, not him, had he forgotten?

She was furious at herself for feeling her eyes water slightly. '_I really AM a child_,' she thought to herself, '_if I throw tantrums and burst into tears like this_.' Not for the first time she felt ridiculous and immature. She wiped her eyes quickly, trying to hide any emotion.

"I'm doing my fucking best!" she cried angrily, turning back to him, her eyes wide and dark with unspent tears. She didn't really know who she was telling it to, or what she was even addressing, but she was fairly sure that it had nothing to do with the kiss, and more likely it was related to the fact that she was, in almost every sense of the word, nothing more than a child, and no matter how hard she tried to grow up, or tried _not_ to grow up, she was still stuck in limbo.

What did she want to grow up for anyway? Maturity only brought misery – sadness and pain came hand in hand with responsibility. Why was everyone so big on reality? Where had it gotten everyone in the past? Responsibility, so called 'maturity', they caused much more hatred than being forever young.

She was beginning to wonder if maybe she wasn't who she wanted to be at all, but a shallow and faint imitation of someone she once was; someone who she should have grown out of a long time ago. She had always told herself that she was just as mature as everyone around her; she was just more forthcoming with the fact that there was a child in everyone, but had she overstepped the boundaries of carefree youth and turned into a walking, living, breathing ghost of her childhood?

"Sorry – I – I shouldn't have said that," she muttered, running a hand through her hair, and turning away from Darcy.

"It's not easy for me either," he reluctantly admitted.

Loli couldn't believe it. He had called her out on her own immaturity and ridiculousness, and now he was confessing to his flaws? Confessing that perhaps, he was struggling himself to be defined?

"I – I just can't _do_ it!" she cried angrily, angrier at herself than she was at Darcy. "It's too hard!"

"_Yes_, it's hard, but it has to be like this. It can't go on any longer in the way that it has," he replied, sighing softly.

"God, I'm so fucking immature," she practically whispered to herself, wiping more tears, biting her lip and crossing her arms against her chest, still not turning to him.

"Lolita, it's the only way," Darcy quietly informed her. "It shouldn't have gone on for so long. It was just getting ridiculous, it has to stop now, and it can never – n – no matter how much – I – it just can't, it's not _right_," he continued, his voice becoming stressed, and she heard him begin to pace.

"But I don't want to," she said softly. She didn't want to grow up. She didn't want to move on with her life. What was there to move onto? Business suits and taxes and bills and nothing but a life full of stress?

"You're young. It's understandable. But you'll get over it, this… attachment," he replied softly, almost delicately.

"So what if I change my life? Change everything; change who I am? Will that make me better?" she asked, almost desperately, pushing more hair from her face, running her hands through locks and practically shaking with nervous energy, her hands trembling their way through her curls.

"No, it has nothing to do with – the fact is that – that you're _twenty-one_, Lolita," he replied, trying to make her see reason. "You have everything in life going for you, and – it's not respectable… someone from your position in life… of your age… and your career! No, it can't happen, it can't go on," he said decidedly. "I – it goes away. Just, put it away, and move on with your life," he practically begged her.

"I can't."

"_Try_," he ordered her. She turned to look over at him, wiping more tears from his eyes. He looked like he was in considerable pain. Her own _boss_ had told her to grow up, to become an adult.

"One step at a time," she said softly. He nodded.

"If that's what it takes, just one step at a time is fine," he replied. Loli gave a bitter laugh.

"Where do I start?" she questioned, staring up at the sky.

"I don't know," he replied simply, shaking his head softly. "W – we should go up to the house," he decided.

Loli nodded, and after a pause, followed him in silence up to the mansion.

Darcy was in much more pain than he had thought he would be, or that he could ever remember being in. But she understood that they couldn't be together, and even though it had broken both of their hearts, he could tell by the look on her face, it had to be done.

"You'll be fine," he said quietly, with his usual detachment as they stood in the drawing room of Rosings, about to enter back into the morning tea.

"I hope so," she whispered, before the doors were pushed open, and she walked back into reality.

**A/N: Review! Because I updated, so I'm nice! Although, if you have medical exams you should be studying for (one specific reader in particular, you know who you are, who should be studying LOTS because I watched Grey's Anatomy and that whole doctor thing looks **_**hard**_**) then you can be spared :D**


	29. Of miscommunication and champagne

**A/N: I need to sleeeeeep….**

Loli's head was spinning, her mind out of control.

He had… had had _destroyed_ Joan's life, he had ruined every change of happiness that she could ever have!

Her mind was barely processing the information that had just been heaped upon it.

Over the past two weeks in the Riviera, she had spent almost every day at Rosings, and was constantly out walking to avoid speaking with Lady Ekaterina, who didn't really mind it that way, as she had a very strong dislike of Loli.

But every time she seemed to slip away, or even when she was just going for a walk around the town, she seemed to bump into Darcy. He was always there, walking with her, saying nothing or too much consequence; mostly they passed their time together in silence. But it was infuriating, she had casually mentioned that some of the routes she was taking were her favourite haunts, hoping that he would realise his error, but no, he still turned up there, almost every day.

It was infuriating! How could he be so dim? He _knew_ that the places she liked to go to, so why did he frequent them too? She had a suspicion that he wanted to keep an eye on her – and her perception of him being a high-haded, overbearing chauvinist was returning.

Before he had been just irritating.

But now, _now_, he was far more than irritating, he was filth to her. His name was like a curse, something vile and hated and despised above all else.

How could she have spent so long with him and not seen his true character? How didn't she know what he was like? After all, Jamie Wickham had given her clues, but she had foolishly given Darcy the benefit of the doubt, instead suspecting Jamie.

_Well_, she thought,_ I certainly know which one is filth now_!

She stormed into the guest room of Chandra and Collin's apartment quickly, slamming the door behind her and frantically running her hands through her hair, trying to work out her next move. Should she call him out? Approach him and try to reason with him, make him call Cale and sort things out with Joan? Should she be reasonable?

"He really is a good guy, you know," Richard had said earlier that day, as they walked along the beach, bereft of tourists as it was a chilly day.

"As you keep trying to tell me," Loli threw back teasingly, watching the waves roll in and out, walking slowly to take in the scenery.

"No, really, he is!" Richard insisted laughingly. "He's anti-social, uptight, emotionally decrepit, demanding, commanding, the lot," he informed her.

"Wow, he sounds great," Loli retorted, rolling her eyes. He scowled playfully at her.

"But he's also the best cousin a guy could have. He's difficult to get to know, but once you _do_ know him, and he likes you, he'd do anything to keep you happy," he explained.

"Are you trying to get me to baby-sit him or something? If he's that much trouble send him back to the hospital."

"I… just don't want you to walk away with a bad opinion of him," Richard sighed, his tone serious, for once. Loli raised an eyebrow. "And I don't want you to dislike him because he can't let you in," he added.

"I don't dislike him. And I'm perfectly happy being on the outside, by the way," she replied, with a hint of sharpness.

"It's just… it's a whole different world that he lives in. I was never a part of it because I didn't want to be, and since I was only the meagre, youngest son, I didn't really get an opportunity to be," he explained. "Whit, he hates it. He'd do anything to be normal, but he just can't, and so he has to make sacrifices," he continued.

"Wow, we're having a deep and meaningful conversation on a beach. This is classic," Loli commented. Richard gave a small chuckle. She wasn't really sure what he was getting at, but she decided to listen anyway.

"He doesn't want to give up what he's had to give up so far, and now… it's just been… he told me, you see," he explained to her. Loli listened with confusion and interest, hoping to understand his meaning. "By the way, are you… okay?" he asked her softly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, with no little confusion, but Richard obviously missed it. He looked deep in thought.

"His mother died when he was young. He had a lot of responsibility. He and Gigi lived with us for a year or two, Mr Darcy was just falling apart, but… yeah, it hurt Whit too," he sighed. "And this has hurt him more. I didn't even think it was possible, I mean, how could he care about someone so much? I can see the position he's in," he stated. "I mean, he cares about this person, thinks the world of them, and then someone waltzes in and changes everything. So the person that he'd do anything for is suddenly in danger, so he _has_ to remove the danger, right?" he began.

Loli had a horrible feeling of dread rise up in her. He hadn't… had he? She suspected it, but… _really_? Had he?

"And there's nothing wrong with that, if the danger is a worthless piece of scum, just out to make a quick buck by reeling in innocent people, nothing wrong at all," Richard continued. "But he had to make a sacrifice, something that he didn't _want_ to give up, and now look where he is," he sighed.

"Don't you think he should let other people make decisions about their own future?" Loli asked, trying not to sound angry. Richard smiled softly at her, in a sort of patronising, paternal way.

"It's not as simple as that, Loli," he informed her quietly. "He sees danger, he reacts to it. He cares too much to let someone be hurt, someone that he cares about," he explained.

"But it's not up to him! It's not _his_ decision!" she cried, now angry. So Joan was a worthless piece of scum, then? Just out to make a quick buck on an innocent person?

"He's done this before, Loli, made decisions on other people's behalves, and it's always turned out for the best," he tried to explain. "You have to understand, he's terribly, _terminally_ loyal."

"He doesn't need to be! He can't just – just decide on people's lives for them!" she cried bitterly, trying to stop tears from slipping out of her eyes. "How can he justify it? How can he justify destroying something like that? H – how can he justify ruining people's lives? His _friends_ lives – what he did to Cale Bingley was just _wrong_!" she cried.

"You know about that?" Richard asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. "I suppose he told you. You two have very different opinions on that matter, but it's irrelevant, we're not talking about –"

"_Irrelevant_? He destroyed two people's lives with no consideration for Cale _or_ for Joan!" she cried angrily, wondering when they had stopped walking, and why she was screaming at Richard, when she really wanted to be screaming at Darcy.

"Joan? Was that the name of the gold-digger?" Richard asked, seeming distracted for a moment. "That doesn't matter. Loli, stop avoiding the topic," he said sternly.

"That's two times that I know of that he's destroyed someone's life, by making decisions that _he_ has no right to make!" she cried, one step away from stamping her foot like a tempestuous child.

"Listen, Cale is pretty much incapable of making decisions by himself. But it's different! They're two different situations!" Richard argued. "He did what he did for Cale for the same reason, because he _cares_, Loli," he tried to reason. Loli shook her head. All she could think about was Joan's tear stricken face, and the sorrow in Jamie's voice as he told her about his son, his son that he had never even seen.

"If he _cared_ then he would have just kept out of it! Let people make their own decisions!" she cried obstinately.

"The decision was just as much his as it was –"

"Oh yes, I can see how it would affect _his_ life, make it simply _unbearable_, to have to put up with a gold-digging _whore_!" she snapped bitterly, wiping away tears from her cheeks. God, why had all she been able to do recently was cry?

"Loli, don't say that," Richard requested quietly.

"I can see him sitting up in his bell towers muttering to himself about how 'she isn't good enough, what a horrid family she has, how _stupid_ this little whore is'," she raved angrily, pacing in anger. Richard looked like he wanted to laugh, but he also looked like someone had just punched him in the belly, too. Loli realised that comparing Darcy to Quasimodo was a little bit rich, but he probably _did_ sit around, listing all of Joan's faults so that he could tear her away from the one she loved.

"Loli, you're getting irrational now," Richard said, trying to sooth her.

"What does that _prick_ know about love, anyway?" she asked angrily.

"You're forgetting the pain that _he's_ in, Loli!" Richard stressed. "It's tearing him apart! The guilt is destroying him!" he continued.

"Well it should," Loli spat. "And he knows _nothing_ about love, if he did he would have never have interfered!" she continued angrily.

"Loli, you can't just assume that he knows nothing about love, you have _no _idea where you're getting at," he sighed. "Give him a break. Do you think that he's happy that this happened? He's about one step away from killing himself, he's that miserable!"

"Then _why do it_?" she cried, wheeling around to face Richard. Her voice sounded desperate, raw, pleading. He shrugged.

"He knew it was the best thing to do. For everyone," he replied. "I told you, he saw danger, he reacted. When someone that he loves is in harm's way, he'll do whatever needs to be done to get them out of it," he said softly. "I just don't want you to hate him."

"I have to go."

The words had barely left her lips before she turned, ignoring Richard's cries for her to stay, racing up the beach, not even noticing when her feet were running on gravel, her brain not even processing the sprint back to Chandra and Colin's apartment.

She tried to process everything as she paced in her room, but all she could think of was Joan, of Jamie, of all the hurt that Darcy had caused. He was _nothing_ to her now, and she would say nothing, because she knew it would get back to Joan, and she would be heartbroken, knowing that Cale cared so little for her that he would leave with just a simple request from his friend. No, she would leave. She would go back to London, quit her job with Darcy Designs, and move back to Tokyo. She couldn't see his face everyday without causing him irrevocable damage, and she couldn't put herself through it.

She pushed tears away with the palm of her hand, the hand that Darcy had kissed when they first formally met in London. She scratched at it furiously, a red mark coming up on the ivory skin, wanting to get rid of his memory on her flesh. She felt dirty. She felt filthy for letting him kiss her hand, she felt disgusting, used and pure shit for having those lips on her own, for having his hand tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck, for letting him practically pick her up from the ground on her first day at Netherfield, for letting him fix the grazes on her hands, '_his_' hands as he had called them, constantly affirming that he 'owned' her, that she was his, and his only, just because she worked for him. Did he have some sort of ownership complex? Did he think he could control Joan's life, Cale's life, Jamie's life, _her_ life, because he felt like he 'owned' them all?

"_You will not talk to that man, you will not see him, you will not engage in any contact, if you do see him in the building, you will alert security… if you see him on the street, you will ignore him. And on no accounts, will you give him any personal details…If he already has your number, change it. If he has your address, move…You are never going to talk to him ever again…_"

"_She was my employee before she became your doll, Clarity, so I make the final decisions on her schedule… she works for me, so instead of standing half-naked in front of a camera, she's actually going to be doing something productive…"_

"_I own those hands, remember? Can't have them damaged."_

"_She's my employee, so I'll decide what I do with her… I employed her – I own her…_ _I pay her to do as she's told. She wouldn't disregard what I tell her to do – she never has in a professional sense… "_

"_You would pick your work, your job, me…"_

"_I'm ordering you to… I knew that you were young, but I didn't think you were so completely naïve… I'm your boss, Lolita. You have no obligation to understand me. You just do as I tell you, because in the end, I'm the one that signs your pay checks, and pays for your tiny apartment and take out meals._"

She showered furiously, scrubbing at her skin, hoping to get rid of the memory of him, trying to get rid of the horrible feelings he conjured in her mind. She stepped out after a while, red, stinging, and changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater, her mind still muddied and cloudy.

He treated everyone around him as if they were his toys, like he could make them do what he felt like! He acted like Clarity disgusted him so much by collecting 'dolls', when he was doing exactly the same thing! She had walked into London with the hope of growing as an artist, seeing her family, but in the end she had just gotten caught up in high-society – it had destroyed her life, the life of those around her, wealth and power did nothing but cause pain.

_Darcy_ had done nothing but cause pain.

"Loli? Are you okay?" she heard Chandra question softly from outside the door.

"I – I'm okay, I swear, I just… I…" Loli trailed off unsteadily, her voice shaking.

"Can I come in? I've got something that'll cheer you up," she replied.

"I – okay," Loli muttered, sitting on the bed, and wiping tears away. Chandra pushed the door open, and peered inside.

"You look a mess, hun," she exclaimed softly. Loli gave a bitter laugh.

"I'm feeling better already, Chan," she smiled softly. She took the long pink silk ribbon that she had tied her wet hair back with from her messy, damp ponytail, one of the ribbons that had been used to decorate one of the gifts Humbert sent her. Whenever she felt down, she would run the ribbon over her fingers, and it cheered her up.

"Well, I've got _two_ things that'll cheer you up much more, one of which should make you blind drunk, so that'll be very helpful," she smiled, pushing the door open further and stepping in. She had two blue boxes with pink ribbons in her hands, and a grin on her face.

"How did Humbert know that I'm in France?" Loli exclaimed, sitting up immediately, all thought of Darcy shooting from her mind. It was a happy escape, to be sure.

"I have my suspicions, Loli," Chandra grinned, crossing the room. "I just got back a minute ago, they were outside the door," she informed her, sitting on the bed, and placing the boxes down.

"They weren't there when I got in," Loli muttered quietly, frowning slightly.

"I kind of took the liberty of peeking into this one, I heard liquid inside of it," she explained, pulling the lid off one of the boxes. Inside was a bottle of champagne and two crystal glasses wrapped in pink tissue paper. Loli chuckled as she took it out of the box and handed it to Chandra, who took it with glee. Chandra loved champagne. "Can we drink it now?" she requested hopefully.

"Sure," Loli replied Chandra squealed, and grabbed the bottle and the glasses, heading over to the dresser so she could pour on a secure surface.

"It's _really_ good champagne too, by the way," she informed her with a cheerful smile. "It must have been worth a fortune. You'll love it," she assured her. Loli smiled softly.

"I'm sure," she replied, going to the next box. It was about the same size as the other, and contained a porcelain doll, surrounded by blue tissue paper. Loli took it out slowly, with extreme care. It was very delicate, wearing a beautiful pink dress, classically Sweet Lolita, complete with white stockings and Mary Jane's.

"That's beautiful!" Chandra exclaimed, spotting the doll. She had just opened the champagne with a _pop_, and was catching the frothing liquid with the glasses.

"Careful, you don't want to ruin that floor," Loli warned, glancing over for a moment, before turning back to her beautiful little doll. It had long red hair and bright blue eyes, just like her.

"I don't give a damn, Colin has to pay to have it cleaned," Chandra laughed, pouring the first glass. "Now I want you to drink every drop of this till your good and drunk, then tell me everything about why you've been so down," she ordered, carefully crossing the room as Loli straightened the little doll's dress and smoothed her hair.

"I refuse to drink every drop, or else you won't get any," she rationalised. Chandra rolled her eyes.

"I'll drink some, don't you worry, hun," she laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Now try some, and tell me what it's like, and if it's drugged, I won't drink any," she grinned. Loli rolled her eyes.

"You're so horrid," she teased, taking the glass. She took a mouthful slowly, before lowering the glass, coughing slightly.

"It tastes like almonds, you'd better not drink it," she warned, her voice a little bit strained as she placed the glass on the nightstand. Chandra was terribly allergic to nuts, so almonds were definitely not on the menu.

"Really?" she questioned, jumping up, and going to the dresser, peering at the label of the bottle.

"God, that's strong!" Loli coughed, hitting her chest. The bubbles had an almost burning effect; she didn't like the drink at all. She pulled the ribbons from the boxes, running them through her fingers as she customarily did, whilst her friend held the bottle up to the light.

"Well, it doesn't say anything in here about almonds, so I'm going to try some," she said decidedly.

"Are –" cough, " – you sure?" cough, "You don't want –" cough, " – t – to get" cough, "_sick_," she spluttered out.

"Loli, are you okay?" Chandra asked with concern, stopping her pouring for a moment. "Loli?"

"I – I'm fine," she replied, swallowing coughs, her eyes starting to water. "J – just went down the – the wrong t – tube," she spluttered, shaking her head. Chandra still looked at her with worry. "I'm fine!" she assured her, but her voice was weak. Chandra relaxed slightly, but still looked concerned. Loli turned back to the ribbons, curling them around her fingers.

She coughed, and frowned as the got to the ends of the ribbons.

They didn't fit together.

The ribbons on all of Humbert's other gifts fit together, indicating they had been cut from the same reel of ribbon, so why did the ribbon on the champagne not fit? And why was it just a little bit darker than the ribbon on the doll? And come to think of it, the box was the wrong shade of blue, and made from some sort of weird, cheap material, and the tissue paper inside it was pink, when the tissue paper in all of the other gifts had always been blue…

"C – Chan!" Loli cried, fighting back more coughs. "D – don't –" cough, " – d – don't drink t – the cha – champ –" she spluttered urgently, rising unsteadily to her feet, her entire throat feeling like it was on fire as she stumbled towards her friend, who was pouring the champagne. Chandra looked up in confusion, before Loli snatched the glass away from her hands and let it fall to the floor, her own form following it downwards, landing with a thump.

"_Loli_!" Chandra screeched, her tone urgent and filled with fear. "Loli! Help! Colin, help! Someone!" she cried, falling to the floor where her Loli lay, coughing and spluttering. She kneeled by her form, her eyes desperately searching those of her best friend.

"I – I – c – can't – b – bre –" Loli managed to get out, her chest tightening. She tried to draw in air but she just couldn't, her stomach was throbbing in sharp, acute pain, and her vision was getting blurry.

"N – no Loli, c – come on, _please_," Chandra begged, blubbering uncontrollably before she continued to call out for Colin.

Everything went dark.

**A/N: So I liked the Loli/Richard conversation, and even though the end bit seemed a bit put-together, I liked it. So do you hate me? Don't worry, in forty-eight hours you'll have something to make up for it :D**


	30. Like a Long Black River

**A/N: How do I love you guys? Let me count the ways… :D lol. So I decided to update early, because it was unfair to leave you hanging like that :D So yeah, sixteen pages, cos I love you all soooooo much :D**

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

_No, don't wake me._

Beep.

_I want to stay warm like this forever_.

Beep.

_My back hurts._

Beep.

_My head hurts._

Beep.

_My whole body hurts._

Beep.

_Where am I?_

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

~ * ~

Loli's eyes fluttered open slowly, as she tried to sit up. She could tell she was in a hospital; everything was white, terribly clean, and smelt of disinfectant. She strained against the heavy, starchy sheets, trying to turn her head.

"Chan?" she croaked out softly, seeing a brown head lying on the side of the bed, leaning over from an armchair by the bed.

"Loli?" the voice questioned immediately, Chandra's familiar head flying up. "Loli! Oh my god, you're safe!" she cried joyfully, her eyes watering as she threw herself onto her friend.

"Chan? What happened?" she asked, her voice strained, but clear. She sat up as best she could, with Chandra clutching her desperately, weeping profusely.

"Oh Loli, th – the champagne, it had been tampered with," she explained through tears, raising her head. "I forced you to drink it first! I made you! A – and n – now!" she blubbered, before giving a mighty howl and throwing herself at the bed again.

"Chandra! It's not your fault!" Loli assured her, sliding up to a sitting position, her energy returning.

"They – they said it was – s – sodium cyanide, and if you – you'd have had any more, you – you would have _died_," Chandra wept bitterly. "I'm so sorry Loli, I didn't know," she cried.

"Chan, I feel much better already, it's fine, it wasn't your fault," she assured her. "I should have been more careful. I didn't look at the packaging properly until afterwards, it wasn't from Humbert," she explained. "I should have known. He never sends two things on the same day, not in different boxes," she said softly, soothing her friend by stroking her dark hair back as she cried into the hospital sheets.

"T – there were two notes," she stammered. "O – one was on the – the doll, a – and the other on – on the champagne," she managed to get out. "The one on the – the champagne, it was signed 'Humbair' not 'Humbert', I should have seen it," she explained.

"Chan, I'm fine, don't worry about it," she assured her. Chan wept gratefully on Loli's shoulder, apologising profusely for the next half-hour until the doctor came.

"You're quite a lucky girl, Miss Gardiner," he smiled. He was a friendly looking man, in his forties, Loli guessed, with a nice smile. "If you hadn't gotten here sooner you wouldn't have made it, you have your friend here to thank," he added, smiling over at Chandra.

"It was my fault she drunk it in the first place," Chandra muttered.

"Okay, enough of your guilt trip! I told you, it wasn't your fault, hun!" Loli assured her. Chandra smiled weakly. "Can I go home now?" she asked, turning back to the doctor.

"We'd like to keep you overnight for observation, actually," he replied. "We administered the anti-dote, and pumped your stomach, but we'd feel better if you could get some rest," he added warmly.

"I can do that back at Chandra's place," she replied. The doctor laughed softly.

"It's just to be careful. We'd really prefer it this way."

"Sorry doc, but I'm going to head back, I hate hospitals," Loli smiled.

"Miss Gardiner, please," he said, his tone a little sterner.

"I'm sorry, but I'm really stubborn. It's better this way," she assured him. He sighed.

"Alright then, I'll have a nurse come around in about fifteen minutes with your discharge papers," he informed her. He gave her a quick check over before moving onto the next patient.

"You know, you really should stay the night," Chandra said sternly to her friend. Loli laughed softly, and rolled her eyes.

"You know what I'm like. I'm not staying here," she replied. "Not in a gown where my butt is easily visible if I turn around," she added.

"Aw, come off it, you'd deny us a show like that?" she heard a familiar voice question.

"Richard! Thanks for coming, she's alive!" Chandra exclaimed excitedly. Richard laughed.

"Yes, I can see that," he replied. "And I already knew. You sent me a dozen text messages, remember?" he added, his eyes crinkling, before they turned to Loli. He looked a little bit hesitant at first, but Loli smiled softly at him, letting him know that she wasn't angry with him. He stepped further into the ward, a large gift bag by his side, a big pink balloon with 'GET WELL SOON' written on the surface tied to something inside the bag. "Curtesy of your employer," he said, passing her the bag. "And this is from me, as if you couldn't tell," he added, passing her a large bottle of raspberry vodka. "I promise it's not poisoned, either," he added, with a grin. Loli accepted the gifts, rolling her eyes.

"Thanks, Richard," she replied warmly.

"Sorry Darcy couldn't be here, he had some urgent phone calls he needed to make. He wishes he could have come though," he replied. "More than anything," he added quietly, meaningfully. Loli frowned, she didn't understand.

"I'm sure," she said sarcastically, putting the vodka on the bedside table.

"Loli, he really is –"

"I hope you won't be drinking that in here," the doctor said sternly, obviously finishing his rounds in the room.

"No, don't worry, it was a gift," she assured him. The doctor glared at the newcomer.

"It's a very bad joke," he said to Richard, who looked affronted.

"Yes, but when you twist the top, water spurts in your face," he assured him. The man looked accusingly at the vodka, before leaving the room, muttering about the English.

"Aren't you going to open your gift?" Chandra asked excitedly, peering at the large blue gift bag on the bed.

"Maybe another… sure," she replied, seeing Richard's look. She pulled out a giant pink and white panda plushie, wearing a little crown, holding a fantastic bouquet of a whole range of pink flowers, from roses to daffodils, and a box of milk chocolates with strawberry fillings. The pink balloon was tied to the panda's hand, floating innocently in the air.

She wanted to pop it. With a pin. A _sharp_ pin.

"He went pretty full out with all of this. Quite funny, actually," he commented, hitting the balloon lightly.

"Tell him he shouldn't have," Loli said, looking at the flowers. They were beautiful.

"Oh, don't worry, Auntie told him repeatedly that he shouldn't have. That he _really_, shouldn't have," he commented. "Speaking of which, how come your roomie is with my Aunt, and not here?" he asked Chandra, who frowned.

"He felt that he was needed at Rosings more than he was here," she replied quietly. "It's okay though, he would have only gotten in the way," she added, shrugging, trying to sound nonchalant.

"So when do you get out of here, cripple? Tomorrow? The day after?" Richard asked, sitting on the end of the bed.

"In about ten minutes," Loli answered. His eyebrows raised.

"Really? Are they that desperate for beds?"

"No, _she_ didn't want to spend the night," Chandra said accusingly. Loli rolled her eyes.

"I hate hospitals. I refuse to spend the night in one," she replied pointedly, crossing her arms. Richard laughed.

"Well Squishy my love, it looks like there's no convincing you!" he smiled. "I can give you guys a lift. How did you get here?" he asked Chandra curiously.

"Ambulance. It was terribly exciting. Lots of flashing lights," she informed him.

"Well I don't think they do drop offs, so I suppose it's up to me," he smiled. "You're lucky. You got out of dinner with McDragon Lady," he added to Loli, who rolled her eyes.

"It might have something to do with the fact that I was unconscious," she retorted, sitting up. "Where's that nurse? I need to get those forms so I can get out of here," she said impatiently, glancing at the door.

"Woah there kiddo, getting a bit hasty? You could have died there," Richard pointed out, chuckling, but his eyes held concern.

"But I didn't. I need to get back to the flat," she replied, glancing around the room. "Where are my clothes? I'm not walking out of here naked," she commented.

"Loli, just lie back, the nurse will be here soon, you need to relax, your body's just been through a lot of stress," Chandra said sternly. Loli rolled her eyes.

"I feel fine, Chan," she assured her. "I want to get back. And I want to head back to London soon too, but I need to go to Paris first, I want to see my family," she said, pulling her hair back, and tying with a hairbow she had on her wrist at all times.

"You know, if you stay, Whit could come visit you, and then we could all go back together," Richard offered subtly, sharing a glance with Chandra.

"You're right! That'd give you two plenty of time to… talk," she said, trying to hide the suggestion in her voice. Loli rolled her eyes.

"There's nothing to say. I'm going to go back to Chan's place, get a couple of hours sleep, then jump on a train up to Paris. It'll take me a few hours on a SNCF line," she said decidedly. "Chan, could you find my clothes?" she asked her friend.

"Yeah, they're right here," Chandra replied warily, taking a folded pile of clothing from a small cupboard by the bed. "Um, Richard, could you give us a minute?" she said sweetly to the man standing by the bed.

"Sure thing Chan-Chan, I'll entertain myself with this comical Far Side calendar," he announced, stepping towards one of the walls with a large stride as Chandra pulled the curtains across the bed, giving them some privacy.

"So you don't want to talk about Whit?" she questioned, as Loli slid off the bed, and pulled on her cupcake underwear.

"No, and that's not going to change," she replied pointedly, her tone suggesting an end to the line of conversation.

"You know, Richard called me earlier this afternoon. Explained the whole thing," she said. Loli groaned, and rolled her eyes.

"And you aren't disgusted? Don't you want to kill McPosh?" she questioned incredulously.

"I admit that maybe he shouldn't have taken hold of the situation like he did, but he thought it was right. You have to respect that," she said softly, helping her out of the starchy hospital gown.

"I don't respect a single thing about that man. And I never, _ever_ will. He's dirt to me now," she spat, pulling on her bra.

"Loli, be reasonable. He had his reasons, you can't play the women scorned your whole life," she chastised her.

"He hurt people. And I'm not being selfish, and just thinking about me, but he hurt people, and he's done it before, and I don't care what happens to him. I hate him, I always have, and always will," she snapped.

"Loli, you're being so immature about this!"

"I'm not – I'm being quite rational, considering the circumstances," she replied pointedly, pulling on her hoodie, and grabbing her jeans.

"Can't you at least _try_ to understand?" she begged her, as Loli literally hopped into her pants.

"No, Chandra. I can't understand him, and I don't want to try. I just want to forget all about him, if not rip his face apart," she snapped. Chandra sighed.

"You were so good before. You were being so rational, so mature, and now you're just being a child again," she said bitterly, stepping back from her friend.

"Yeah, well I'm indulging in some childlike pettiness for the next twenty-four hours," she said coolly, zipping up her pants. "All done. Can we go now?" she begged, wriggling her bare toes. She hadn't been wearing shoes when she was taken to the hospital.

"Alright," sighed Chandra, pulling the curtain across. "Ready to go?" she asked Richard, who nodded. He glanced at Loli, who was huffily pulling on a pair of complimentary hospital slippers, before practically jumping up, and grabbing the giant panda and bottle of vodka.

"Let's go then!" she said triumphantly. Richard and Chandra shared glances of concern, before Chandra walked out of the room, stopping an approaching nurse, who apparently had Loli's discharge papers.

"If he'd heard what you just said, it'd destroy him, you know," Richard commented softly. Loli rolled her eyes. So his self-esteem was that fragile, then? She wanted to snort in laughter. The idea was ridiculous.

"He's a big boy. He can look after himself," she replied coolly. "Besides, I'm just a lowly employee to him. He doesn't give a damn," she shrugged, following Chandra out of the room.

"Loli, don't be stupid," Richard sighed. "He's a good guy," he said softly, placing a hand on her arm.

"Then why can't he show the world?" she asked simply, turning away, and following Chandra through the hallway.

Richard dropped them off at Colin's apartment without trying to convince Loli once more, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek and stepping back into the elevator as Chandra fiddled with the keys.

They cleared up the champagne and box is silence, the gravity of the situation hitting Loli. She had to call Clarkson as soon as she could, but for now, she really wanted to sleep. After bidding Chandra a good night, she packed a few things into her suitcase, before changing her jeans for a pair of boxer shorts with sheep on them, and then collapsing into bed.

She must have slept about twelve hours, because by the time she woke, the sun had rose high in the sky. She made a quick visit to the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sluggish movements, her body still exhausted, and before she had managed to change and work her way into breakfast, she had fallen back into bed again.

When she awoke once more, about half an hour later, she could tell things were different before she had opened her eyes. There was a certain atmosphere, a slight change to the general scent of the room, but she took no notice of it, resting for a moment in groggy slumber, before her eyes fluttered open.

He was sitting on an armchair that had been pulled closer to the bed, leaning over, his head supported by his hands. He was awake, but hardly moving at all. He looked like he had been crying.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked suddenly, her voice still shaky from sleep. He raised his head, his eyes bloodshot and watery. He looked like he hadn't slept for a few days, he certainly hadn't shaved, and he was wearing a crumpled pair of dark grey slacks and a white Oxford shirt that desperately needed to be ironed.

"You're awake," he croaked. His voice revealed that there was no doubt as to him crying recently. In fact, there were still wet lines creeping down his cheeks.

"Clearly," she said, sitting up.

"No – don't, you need to rest," he urged her. She stopped moving, and settled back into the bed. She was extremely confused and rather unnerved as she came to her senses, the veil of sleep lifting from her mind. "I see you got my gift," he said, glancing over at the oversized panda in the corner.

"Yes. Thanks," she muttered warily. He looked at her for a moment, his expression suggesting he was in deep pain. What had happened to him?

He lowered his head again, and leant it against the palm of his hand, his elbow resting against his knee as he bent over in the chair. She saw a tear drip from his eyes to splatter on the floor. His shoulders shook for a moment, as if her were silently weeping.

"I – I'm so sorry," he managed to get out. His voice was strained, but filled with pain and remorse. "I am _so_ sorry," he repeated, running a hand through his hair.

"Well it isn't exactly your fault, you know," she pointed out carefully, wondering what had reduced the normally proud and stoic Fitzwhitlam Darcy to this miserable shadow.

"It _is_ my fault! I put you in this position – I wasn't considering your safety, I was being selfish," he muttered, sounding furious at himself, wiping away more tears with his fist. "I – if you had another mouthful of that – that _poison_, or if you hadn't gotten to the hospital – God, I can't even… I can't…" he stammered, leaning back in the chair. "Were you in pain?" he asked insistently.

"I – a bit," she muttered, unsure of how to reply. What was going on? What was he doing in her room? Why hadn't she kicked him out yet? Why had Chandra even let him into the house? "My stomach hurt, and my throat… mostly I was just frightened, I couldn't really breathe," she explained, not sure why she was even answering him.

Her reply seemed to wound him very deeply. He gave another quiet sob, turning his face away from her so she wouldn't see him cry. Had something happened that she didn't know about?

"I – I'm fine now," she assured him, frowning slightly. "Have you called Clarkson? I was going to in a minute," she added, wanting to change topic.

"Yes, everything has been taken care of," he replied, turning back to her, squeezing the bridge of his nose, and trying to compose himself a bit more. "You don't have to worry. You're going to be safe," he assured her.

"Did you tell him that the champagne wasn't sent by Humbert? It was an impostor, someone who had heard me talk about him or something, he spelt 'Humbert' how it was pronounced, not correctly spelt, and the packaging was different," she explained. He nodded.

"Don't worry, he knows that nothing sent by Humbert, the _real_ Humbert, is going to harm you," he said softly, looking at her with concern. "I should never have done it. I left him an opening – it was a stupid idea. I – I just wanted to – to give you things, to see you wear them, I couldn't tell you they were from me," he chastised himself.

"W – what? _What_? You – _you're Humbert_?" she exclaimed incredulously, reeling back, her eyes wide.

"Of course I am, Loli," he said, smiling softly. "Loli. I never really liked it that much, I prefer Lolita, but I'm getting used to it," he said, standing up, and sitting on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on the lump in the blankets where her foot lay.

"I can't believe it… _you're_ Humbert?" she whispered, her mind reeling. It just wasn't possible!

"Well, mostly," he said, standing up again, and beginning to pace. "Of course _I'm_ Humbert, but it wasn't my idea to send you the lingerie. It was all Gigi's idea, she… assumed a little too much about our relationship, I didn't know about them until you told me, I promise you," he swore, still sounding agitated. "It was so _stupid_ of me! I can't believe that I did it, I don't regret giving you things, how can I regret that? No, I regret the way I did it. Because of _me_ you almost died," he said angrily, pacing quickly up and down the room.

Loli couldn't believe it. She didn't _want_ to believe it. It made no sense! She swung her legs over, and was about to slide out of bed, give her boss a talking to, man to man, or rather, man to woman, standing on a stool or a chair or something to take away his hight advantage. She was going to put him back in his rightful place.

"Lolita, don't get out of bed!" he urged her, stepping forwards quickly, pushing her back into the bed, pulling the cover up. "You almost died. Pace yourself, relax a little," he urged her.

"I'll give _you_ 'almost died'!" she cried angrily, but it was muffled by the blankets Darcy was covering her with.

"Just try and get some sleep. You must be exhausted," he said softly, pushing her hair back from her forehead. He pressed a small kiss to her temple.

"What the hell is going _on_?" she questioned. He gave another tiny smile, and sat back down on the bed.

"I've decided. If you're going to be in danger no matter where you are, which is pretty clear, judging by what just happened, then you might as well be back in London, where we can keep an eye on you," he said, softly running his hands over her hair. Loli wanted to pull away, but there was something about his touch that stopped her. And she hated herself for it. "I know it's soon, but if you moved in with me, you'd be under constant supervision. If you want to get married, then I have no problem with that, in fact, quite the opposite. But if you don't want to push it yet, if you want to wait, I don't mind either," he added.

"What? What the hell are you going on about?" she questioned pointedly, sitting up, recoiling from his touch.

"I know that for a while it looked like… like nothing could be done. Like we'd both have to suffer," he began softly, his tone tender, not cold and condescending. "And, I mean, you _are_ only twenty-one, and your family _is_ ridiculous, honestly, quite insufferable, and you don't have connections or money or social standing, but I just don't care anymore," he continued. "I don't care about any of it. So you're young. It's not too much of an age difference, and in a few years, no one will care at all. And we don't have to see your family very often, not at all, maybe. Connections can be made easily, and you're a talented artist, you aren't _completely_ unknown," he added.

"Is this some sort of joke?" she questioned sharply. Darcy gave a soft laugh.

"No, Lolita, it's not a joke," he replied patiently. "I know that there was a time when a relationship between us looked impossible, and it'll be hard, I'm your _boss_, for goodness sake, but we can work around it. We can work _through_ it," he said with determination.

"This isn't funny, Darcy," she said unsteadily, a horrible, sick feeling rising up in her stomach.

"Lolita, I'm not trying to fool you! I told you, this is what I want now!" he replied, his voice rising slightly in volume. He sounded exasperated with her already. "Sorry – you must still be tired. I'm sorry I couldn't get to the hospital, I had to call Clarkson, we had to make arrangements," he apologised, sounding tired. Loli edged away from him on the bed.

"I don't understand."

"What's there to understand? Lolita, I've made my mind up! I can't live without you anymore – I know that it's completely against my character, my upbringing, the expectations my family and society has for me, but the past few months have been a torment for me," he said quickly. "And when I met your stepmother and sisters… I just couldn't do it. I couldn't even _allow_ myself to think of it, it went against everything I stood for in life! Everything I had made for myself, for my family, but I _need_ you, I just can't live like this anymore," he continued, staring at her with his usual intensity.

He swallowed.

"I love you."

Loli couldn't believe what was happening. What was he saying? He _loved_ her? Where had that come from? She was still processing the sudden revelation to the Humbert mystery, what was going on now?

"And I'm willing to put everything aside. Your age, your family, your lack of fortune and connections, if you'll just put me out of my misery, and let me take you back to London," he continued.

"I – I –" Loli stammered, not even sure about what she wanted to say to him. "What the _hell_!" she decided was the correct phrase. She supported her head with her hands, rubbing her temples, trying to get some clarity.

"It's a big decision, I know, but it's for the best that we do this, Lolita," he said softly, easing closer to her on the bed. "Even Clarkson agrees. We didn't know if he was serious or not, but this is just proof that he's not playing games," he added, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She recoiled sharply. His face turned to an expression of deep pain, and shame.

"I know that you must hate me. It was _my_ fault that this happened, if it weren't for me you would never have had to go to hospital, you never would have…" he swallowed painfully, "… you never would have been hurt. You wouldn't have been in pain. And I'm so, _so_ sorry, Lolita, I wish I could change what had happened, I wish I could go back in time, but I – I just _can_'_t, _and I owe you speeches and flowers and giant pandas and apologies, but you know what I'm like," he continued. "I – I can't _make_ speeches, and long declarations of love, I love you – and I know it's not enough, but it's all I can say," he added quietly.

"I don't know what you're… assuming on my part," Loli began, after a loaded silence, trying to collect her thoughts. "But I don't – this isn't – I don't even know what you're – _God_, what the hell is _happening_?" she exclaimed, running a hand through her hair.

"Lolita, I'm sorry, but I need you to tell me, will you come back to London with me? Will you forgive me?" he asked delicately. Loli looked up at him, into his deep, pale grey eyes, and Joan's face, Jamie's voice, every little unnecessary remark, order, or pointed insult he had ever given her flooded into her mind.

And then it flew out again, the moment that he pressed his lips against hers.

Kissing him was like… she had just turned her brain off, and submitted so her senses. She didn't need to open her eyes to see him, pressed so close to her, because his eyes were forever burned into her mind, staring at her with fierce intensity, and something that had always been there, but she had never seen before – desire. She could smell him, he smelt like washing powder, some sort of subtle, masculine cologne, and something decidedly _Darcy_ that she just couldn't escape. She could her his soft noises of approval, hear him softly murmuring her name against her lips, she could taste coffee in his mouth, and feel his rough, unshaved cheek against her skin, and his rumpled white shirt beneath her fingers.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she shouldn't be relenting, she knew she should be pulling away, slapping him across the cheek, screaming blue murder about what a horrible, _horrible_ person he was, but the words just didn't come. And if they did, they were swallowed by his mouth pressed against hers. She _wanted_ to stop, but the feeling of his arms encircling her, hands running up and down her spine as he pulled her closer to him, until she was sitting on his lap, it all felt far too good be overridden to a small thought passing through the back of her mind.

But she knew it was wrong.

"_No_," she murmured against his lips, but it sounded more like a pathetic whimper, an unhappy noise that a dying animal would make, knowing full well that it had no hope. "No, no, no," she continued, pulling her mouth away from his, her face red with shame as she slid off his lap. "_No_, no, _no_!" she repeated, pulling away from him, and immediately pulling the bed covers over her face, hiding beneath the sheets, hoping that he would go away, that he would just disappear, that she would peek her head out and find him gone.

"Shhh, it's okay," Darcy said soothingly, trying to pull the blanket down. She held onto it tighter. "I'm sorry. I got a bit carried away. It's okay, I promise that I won't force you into anything, we need to talk first," he continued softly, tugging lightly against the quilt.

"No! Go away!" she cried, her mind spinning madly. She hated herself for loving to be kissed by him, after everything he had done to Joan, to Jamie.

"Lolita, we have to talk, _please_," he begged. Loli sat up angrily, and pulled down the blanket.

"You want to talk? Fine. I'm so _sorry_ that you had to go through so much pain, I'll just divorce myself from my family so that you won't have to suffer anymore!" she cried sarcastically. "My only consolation is that with all of those reasons you listed about how _difficult_ it's been for you will make it easier to move on with!" she continued pointedly. Darcy looked at her with confusion. "So _no_, I _won't_ go back to London with you, I _will_, on the other hand, go back to Tokyo, get my old job back, and forget all about you, all about your alter-ego _Humbert_, and all about your stupid, _stupid_ world!" she snapped.

"Loli, don't be like this," Darcy said patiently.

"Like _what_, Darcy?" she spat, after a mocking scoff. "Like I have _absolutely no idea what you're talking about_?" she cried.

"Lolita, you're being irrational now. You can't just play dumb with me, I know how you feel, you're just upset because I can't shower you with false flatteries and empty compliments!" he snapped with irritation. "I _said_ that I love you, isn't that enough? What more do you want?" he questioned sharply.

"How about an explanation?" Loli retorted. "I don't know what's going through your head – but I _don't love you_! And this is _certainly_ the first that I've heard of you _not despising_ me!" she cried, sliding off the bed, and beginning to pace like a trapped animal.

"Lolita, what are you say –"

"_I don't love you_!" she cried, wheeling around, her expression filled with desperation. He _needed_ to understand, and he needed to leave, _now_. "How could I? Everything you've ever done – it's all been some sort of power trip!" she continued angrily.

"Y – you're _rejecting_ me?" he questioned incredulously, getting off the bed and rising to his feet. "_Me_?"

"I know it might be novel to you, but I _didn't_ swoon the moment I first met you," she spat.

"Well then. Could you at least do me the decency of explaining _why_ you so willingly led me along, only to reject me with such little civility?" he asked coldly, trying to hide the hurt in his voice. Loli scoffed.

"_Led you along_? That's crap, Darcy; I never did _anything_ to encourage you. I don't care if I'm being immature about this – I don't have to listen to the guy who _destroyed_ my sister's life!" she cried in pointed response.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in confusion.

"You separated Joan and Cale! You ripped them apart because of your own selfishness!" she cried angrily.

"I did _no_ such thing, I admitted my concerns to Caleb – his actions are not my responsibility!" he spat in return, his eyebrows knotted together, trying to mask pain with anger.

"But you admit that you disapproved of their relationship!"

"Of course I disapproved. Joan was only out for his money – her mother made that perfectly clear, as did her complete and total lack of affection to Cale," he spat. Loli gave a bitter laugh. "What? Why are you laughing?" he questioned in confusion.

"Joan was completely head over heels for Cale, and probably still is," she informed him. "My stepmother is an idiot. She and Joan are complete opposites – Joan _loved_ Cale, not for his money, but for who he _was_, and how he made her feel," she continued. "She can't show her emotions. She's shy. I can't _believe_ that you took that for a lack of affection!" she exclaimed angrily.

"Caleb is shy too, it only took one word from me before he realised that Joan felt _nothing_ towards him! If she really loved him, he would have been able to see it! He would have fought for her!" he cried.

"Don't you get it? You're like a big brother, or a father to Cale! He practically worships you, he only left Joan because _you_ told him to!" she argued. "Joan's feelings didn't matter, because _your_ good opinion meant too much to him!" she continued.

"It has nothing to do with us, Lolita," he said coolly. "Just because you're too frightened to look at the bigger picture doesn't mean that you can just blame everything on the past," he snapped.

"You didn't have to be there to pick up the pieces! You didn't see her _die_ inside, because she was taken away from the man that she loves!" Loli cried, tears starting to fall freely. "I don't know what that feels like. I _really_ doubt that you do either. But – but _watching_ her, watching her fall apart, I can't imagine more pain!" she spat bitterly.

"Lolita, it has _nothing to do with us_ anymore! Stop trying to – trying to avoid the topic!" he shouted in angry reply, running a hand through his hair with tension.

"You know what? Putting that aside – I _still_ hate you. Jamie Wickham made it perfectly clear what kind of man you were!" she spat coldly. Darcy coloured, and his fist tensed.

"So you would believe the word of a liar, a criminal, one of the most dangerous men in Britain, over _my _word? The word of the man who loves you?" he questioned incredulously, shaking his head, and giving a bitter laugh. "I should have known that he'd poisoned you in more ways than one," he spat.

"That's right, laugh. Because you took _everything_ away from him, and it's fucking hilarious," she snapped.

"Don't you get it? He's _lying_ to you, Lolita."

"Even if he _is_ lying, your character and behaviour has given me nothing to believe that he's not telling the truth!" she cried furiously, continuing to pace in the suddenly very small room. "Ever since I met you, all you did was judge, criticise, stand there with your nose in the sky, disapproving of everything, ordering me around like you _own_ me, not giving a shit about other people, and you expect me to love you? To want to _live_ with you?" she questioned incredulously.

"So if I'd acted like a complete and total idiot, wooing you with clichés and false words, not caring about _you_, just trying to get into your pants, you would have been more willing to give me a chance?" he sarcastically inquired.

"You know what Darcy? You're the _last_ man I would _ever_ like, let alone love, and the very, _very_ last man that I'd let into my pants. Do you want a medal, or a plaque for that? Because it's a pretty fucking impressive achievement," she spat finally, stepping forwards, pulling herself up to her full height.

_Oh no_, Loli thought. _Here we go again_.

There was none of the tentative testing of the waters that there had been in their earlier kisses, simply the passion that had arisen from their arguing. His hands buried themselves in her hair, his lips insistent and harsh against hers, the wall crashing into her back with a loud _bang_, her hands running up and down his chest uncontrollably. She had no power whatsoever over her hands, her lips, her heart racing a million miles an hour. It was wrong. It was _so_ wrong, and she knew it.

So why couldn't she push him away?

Darcy's hands had moved from the nape of her neck, and were now encircling her waist, pulling him as close as she could possibly be, pressed against his tall frame.

"Maybe," he gasped, pulling his mouth away from hers, pressing hundreds of persistent kisses across her face, "I should have done this – a – a bit earlier," he managed to get out.

"It wouldn't have changed a thing," Loli said suddenly, pushing him away. "How _dare_ you? Get out of here!" she cried angrily, glaring at him.

"You know what, I'm not going to apologise for falling in love with you. I was _open_ about my objections to your family, your situation in life, and maybe if your pride hadn't been injured by _my _honesty –"

"_My_ pride?"

" – Yes, _your_ pride, Miss Gardiner, if it weren't for your pride, we wouldn't be having this discussion – we'd be on a plane to London, where you can be _safe_!" he cried angrily, his voice starting to strain as he blinked away tears, and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't need you to look after me, _Sir_," she spat pointedly. He gave a bitter laugh.

"Clearly," he replied, shaking his head. "I'm sorry that I kept you from your rest," he added coolly, stepping forwards, and grabbing her wrist, pulling her to him in one quick motion. He pressed one last insistent kiss against her lips, and then pulled away. "Good day, Miss Gardiner," he spat, turning, and leaving the room.

Loli ran a hand through her hair, and laughed bitterly. She blinked away tears, and sunk to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself tightly, not even sure if she was crying or laughing anymore.

It had been quite a day.

**A/N: Yes, it **_**has**_ **been quite a day. Well, for Loli, not me. All I did was go shopping. Not really a big challenge. So I'm still following the basic order of events from P&P, but it's going to be different. Darcy grabbing Loli and giving her a kiss, randomly, even after they had been fighting? Yeah, expect some more of that :D So you know how much I love reviews, and how **_**happy**_** they make me feel, so please donate a good word or two, or a bad word, even :D Oh, and yes, Loli is irritating me too, she's so darn immature, but don't worry, she gets better!**


	31. re: stacks

**A/N: So, we hit the proposal! I'm glad that people liked it so much, and, as I promised, Loli starts to grow up! You can see evidence of it in this chapter, joy!**

**From: **F_

**To: **sweet_lolita­_gardin_

**Subject: **Clarification

_Dear Miss Gardiner,_

_Please don't concern yourself that this email is another request for you to return to London with me. I am merely addressing two issues that came to light during out conversation earlier today._

_Firstly, I would like to give my apologies as to the situation of your stepsister, Joan, and my friend, Caleb. I will defend myself in this matter by stating quite simply, that I thought I was doing what was best for my friend. I did not see love or affection in Joan's eyes when she looked at Caleb, perhaps I wasn't able to recognise it, not having grown up with her, but it was clear to me that Caleb didn't see it either. I spoke to him, briefly, asking him if he was sure he was doing what was right. I did not try to convince him to leave Joan, I just wanted his fortune and his reputation protected. I was trying to help my friend, and I am sorry that Joan suffered. My understanding of her character is quite minimal compared to yours, to perhaps I was wrong, but I don't know. So I give my apologies, as this matter seemed very upsetting to you particularly. Perhaps if I had said nothing to Caleb the situation I find myself in would have been different, but I do not concern myself with these matters. What I did was in service to a friend, and that is my only defence._

_Secondly, and more importantly, the issue of James Wickham was raised during our debate, for lack of a better word. I feel that my only option is to relate my complete dealings with the man, and explain to you the situation that I, my family, and you yourself now find ourselves in. I don't know what James has told you, but I can guarantee that what I'm about to relate is the whole truth, and I request that you don't speak of the contents of this email to anyone else, unless it is absolutely necessary. For proof that these words are true, you can ask my cousin Richard, who you seem so very fond of. He knows the full events, and I'm sure that you would rather hear them coming from his mouth, but unfortunately, you shall have to make do with me._

_James and I met in Eton. He was a few years younger than me, and we didn't really run in the same social circles, but we somehow managed to form an acquaintance, and a friendship. We grew close, and one summer I invited him to Pemberley, my family estate, to meet my parents and my younger sister. Everyone in my family instantly loved James, and we all formed a strong attachment to him. Particularly my father, of whom James was always a favourite. _

_My mother died in childbirth a few years after I met James. I was barely fourteen. The responsibility of Gigi, my sister, fell upon me as my father fell apart, and our only resort was to move to Matlock Park, my Uncle's estate, which was close enough to Eton so that I could be home every weekend and most afternoons so I could look after Gigi. I didn't have time for my friends, for James, because I was so engrossed with my studies and with raising a four year old child, and, disappointed with my lack of attention towards him, James decided to cut acquaintance with me. He became unhinged. His parents had both walked out on him, so he moved into Matlock with us, financially supported by my father, who had a soft spot for him._

_James was soon completely out of control, and because I was so concerned with Gigi, I had no time to try and stop him from becoming involved with the wrong people, and he soon turned into a juvenile criminal. He was arrested several times before his sixteenth birthday on counts of criminal damage, breaking and entering, and substance abuse. I covered for him so my father wouldn't find out, thinking that I owed James at least that after ignoring him so thoroughly. _

_My father died when I was just out of University. By this time he had realised what James had become, and stopped supporting him, cutting him lose from our family. I was grateful for this, but James, angry after not inheriting anything from the will, decided that he was owed a small fortune for his 'time'. I was disgusted by him; I knew he was only befriending my father for his personal gain, but hearing him say it so openly was a complete disgrace. I gave him fifty thousand pounds, and told him to leave, and never come back. I knew that the only thing James understood was money, so by cutting him lose with a decent sum, I figured that he could take my advice, and never return._

_About two years ago, Gigi graduated college with a degree, and planned to continue her education for another two years. As a gift to her, I gave her a penthouse in London. After my father's death we had moved back into Pemberley, but I was needed in London so often that it just became ridiculous for me to stay so far North, that I moved into our townhouse. Wanting to show Gigi that I trusted her, I allowed her to live on her own. _

_A few months after she had moved in and started working for her masters, Gigi came to me in tears. She told me that she was pregnant, with the child of James Wickham. _

_Understandably I was furious, she wasn't even twenty-three yet, and she was pregnant. I couldn't even comprehend that someone so young, my sister, was going to be a mother. She was still a child, still a child that I practically raised. But my fury increased ten-fold when I discovered that over the course of two months, James Wickham had been forcing her to sleep with him, threatening that if she refused, he would financially ruin me. Gigi was terrified, so did as he told her. If I had paid more attention to James' actions, perhaps Gigi would never have been put in such a situation, but alas, I chose to disregard him. I knew he was incredibly dangerous. I will not tell you the full extent of his dealings, because they are not relevant, and not something that I would consider suitable for a young woman to hear._

_And now I have to explain things more fully. You see, James is a very clever man. He gained nothing from my father's demise, because the rules of Darcy family inheritance are very strict. The contract written was airtight, and despite my attempts to change it, it's a slow process. The contract currently dictates that only a direct Darcy heir could inherit. I will explain this law of inheritance in connection to my own family, and perhaps you will be able to understand the situation. _

_My mother, Anya Dimitrius-Fitzwilliam, married my father, Lord Whitlam Darcy. From their union, came myself, and Gigi. As the elder child, I inherited the Darcy fortune, allowing for a large trust fund for Gigi. Had Gigi and I not been born, the fortune would have passed to my cousin, Eleanor Gracechurch, nee Darcy, daughter of my father's brother. The contract dictates that the fortune will next pass to my eldest offspring, in the event that I do have children. If not, the fortune passes to the eldest child of the next sibling, being Gigi, which means her son, Callum, stands to inherit. This is simple enough._

_So, if I were to die childless, the fortune passes directly to Callum. And if I were to die childless before his twenty-first birthday, when he is legally able to take hold of his accounts, the fortune is placed in a trust fund, under control by the child's parents. Which means that if I die before Callum turns twenty-one, leaving no heir, the fortune is in control of James and Gigi – or selectively James, as he is the child's father. This was James' intention, and he is now trying to claim custody over Callum, or else the contract doesn't apply to him. _

_Do you understand now, why I despise him? He raped my sister, simply to try and work his way into obtaining my fortune, and because we could prove nothing, he went unpunished. But it wasn't just an act of greed, it was revenge. James did this to cause me pain, knowing that I would never allow my sister to terminate her child, because in doing so she would be in torment for the rest of her life, and that I would never reject my sister's child from the Darcy family. _

_You might be wondering how this concerns you. Well, James can only gain control of the fortune if I am to die before Callum's coming of age, leaving no heir. I have been very careful not to attach myself to any woman since we discovered James' intent, because that would immediately label the woman as a target to him. I ordered you to stay away from him, because it would put your life at risk. Unfortunately, it wasn't your association with James that put you in danger, rather, your association with me._

_As I mentioned, if I died before an heir could be produced, the money would pass to Gigi's child. But what use would it be to accept guardianship over a child if I had my own heir? James could have killed me outright, and for a certain amount of time it looked that that was his motive, and probably still is his intent, if not primary motive, but he isn't stupid enough to do that. At least, not yet. He saw my attraction for you. As much as I hate to admit it, James knows me very well. He watched you, me, the two of us together, and gathered as much information as he could. He knew that you're the only woman that I would consider starting a family with. He threatened your life several times, simply because you are a woman, and he was able to see my attraction for you. I couldn't put you in that position. It was just too dangerous._

_I'm sorry for what happened. I'm sorry that Jamie poisoned you with his lies, and I'm sorry that he poisoned you with cyanide, and I'm sorry that it's very likely he's going to try to kill you again. I acted the way I acted because I didn't want you to be hurt, I didn't want you to be killed. _

_You don't have to respond to this. I hope that I've cleared things up a little. It would be best if we return to a working relationship when you are in England again. _

_If I were a religious man, I would pray to God to keep you safe, as it is, I can only hope that James does not have his way. _

_-Whit Darcy._

Loli sighed as she read through the email for what felt like the millionth time. She had arrived back in London after spending a month with her family in Paris, striking a deal with Clarkson. She would come into the office three days a week, and work from home to reduce her risk of being killed by James Wickham.

It all seemed strangely surreal to Loli. She understood that someone was trying to kill her, but her mind was so occupied with Darcy that she could hardly even comprehend it.

She hadn't anticipated the way he would make her feel. She hadn't anticipated the jolt in her stomach whenever she thought of him, the guilt that she felt when her mind wandered to their last meeting, which was very often, almost as if she were in a permanent state of distraction. All she could do was think of what she _wanted_ to say to him, and work her backside off, trying to stop thinking of him completely.

She was disgusted with herself. There were no excuses for her behaviour, all she could do now was try to apologise for her mistakes.

She had tried to pen many responses to his email. But whatever she wrote sounded insincere, and not nearly enough to make up for her behaviour. She felt like a complete idiot. She had acted irrationally, and now that she looked back over the past few months, she realised that Darcy had been controlling, yes, but he had also been kind and loving. In fact, she seemed to have mistaken a lot of his so called 'controlling' behaviour as merely concern for her wellbeing, and why? Because he had bruised her pride.

She hated herself for the way she had acted, what she had said, what she had done, and how she had treated Darcy. She was still irritated with him, his reasons for separating Joan and Cale were remarkably pathetic, but she could understand what he had done, because he thought it was the right thing to do.

She sighed, and pulled up the drafts folder in her hotmail account.

_Darcy,_

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I treated you like crap, I'm sorry that I never listened, I'm sorry that I never paid attention, and I'm sorry that I listened to James more than I listened to you_.

-_Loli_.

She almost cringed. How could she even _consider_ sending him that reply, after he had penned her such a beautiful explanation of his actions? She deleted it.

_Mister Darcy,_

_I am terribly sorry for my behaviour and attitude towards you in relation to your actions. I apologise profusely for what I said and did, however, I want you to know that I haven't forgiven you for what you did to Joan, even though I understand why you did it, and how you didn't understand the way she felt. But I can't forgive you until she does, and if she knew, she'd rip you apart. So I can't do it yet._

_Kind regards,_

_Lolita Gardiner._

How could she put it so bluntly? Yes, he still irritated her for what he had done, but how could she hold that against him when he had done so much for her?

_Whit, _

_I wish you had told me how you felt before, preferably before I left London, your feelings, I mean, because if you had, then things would have been different, because I like you, I've always liked you, I just never realised it, and I liked you when I was in London, but I told myself that I hated you, but I didn't really, and so I'm sorry about that, the whole 'hating you' business, but the fact is I just had no idea, maybe I should have, I don't know. But if you had told me when I was in London, I would have been angry at first, but then I would realise that I do like you, but I'm your employee, and you're my boss, so I guess that we can't. Besides, you have to look after your family right now. So this is probably the best thing to do, other than tell you over and over again that I'm sorry for how I acted, sorry for what I said and did, and I'm sorry that things turned out the way they have._

_-Lolita._

She deleted that one immediately. It was practically a joke. He couldn't care for her anymore, not after her actions. She sounded clingy, insincere. She almost shuddered at the thought of sending it to him.

_Whit,_

_I know you probably hate me, and think I'm an idiot for saying this, but I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry, and it sounds so pathetic when I say it, because it doesn't make up for anything, but I am sorry. I want to be mature about this, I want to be rational, but there isn't any rational way to excuse myself. Yes, you might have been wrong, but that doesn't mean you deserve what I've said and done. So I can only say I'm sorry, again._

_-Loli._

She pushed her office chair back angrily, rising to her feet, and running her hands through her hair with a frustrated sigh. It was practically impossible to get the way she felt across! She sounded so immature and childish in those emails, she'd never really had a way with words, but not even being able to apologise to someone without sounding like a complete and total simpleton was just pathetic!

She glanced at the clock. She needed to get ready for her first day back at the office, but the mere prospect was terrifying. Her only consolation was that she wouldn't have to face Darcy – he had apparently taken extended leave in Northern England. She wasn't ready to reply to his email, over a month after it had been sent, so meeting him in person was completely off the cards.

She opened her wardrobe, and looked past the jeans, the sneakers, the ridiculously fluffy dresses and excess amounts of lace to find a simple pair of high waisted dark grey slacks and a white office shirt, and a pair of plain black heels. She had decided to make sacrifices – dressing like a 'cream puff' at every opportunity was no longer a suitable thing to do, she would take her work seriously, with respect.

She was determined to prove that she wasn't just an overgrown child to herself, and to those around her. She still loved Lolita, and nothing would stop her from dressing up occasionally, but there was a line, and she had crossed it far too many times.

She couldn't help but wonder when Lolita had become more than a style of fashion, but a complete and total way of life. Almost like a religion to her. She gave a soft chuckle to herself as she dabbed moisturiser onto her skin in the bathroom mirror. She doubted that bell skirts, lace trimmings and pink bows had been the 'false gods' that the Bible warned humanity away from – but it was to the same effect, nevertheless.

She got to work at a respectable time, stepped into her office/cubicle, sat down, and started work. She finished at four, walked home, made an omelette (the extent of her cooking abilities), read a book, and went to bed.

She sighed, as she rolled over, glancing out the window into the busy London streets, a sea of blinking coloured lights.

She had been prepared to sacrifice immaturity and childishness to make up for her past errors.

She just wondered if sacrificing her entire existence was a part of the deal.

**A/N: Sorry about the angst, but it **_**is**_** necessary, chaps. Please reviews, you've all been so kind, your words make me feel very happy :D **


	32. on the other side

**A/N: **_**So**_** sorry that I didn't update last night, I've had a pile of homework (curtesy of year eleven, peoples) and assignments to do, but I managed to write up another chapter this morning because I had a late start :D Guess what? MY BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW!!! Yeah, sorry, I've been really excited about that :D**

"Bah."

"A very interesting argument. But what do you think of America's involvement in the Middle East? Surely you can't agree with it."

"Baaaaaaaaahhhhhh…. Duppygah!"

"Honestly? Well, I suppose I never considered that point of view. You propose a fair argument, young man. Shall we retire to the den for whisky and cigars whilst the women convene in the drawing room?"

"If you take up smoking I'll castrate you," Gigi warned sharply, glaring at her elder brother firmly as he balanced a young boy with a mop of curly blonde hair on his hip.

"Hush Gigi, the men are talking," Whit argued, adjusting his hold on the young boy as Gigi helped Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper, unpack the grocery shopping. "Now, I understand that you're a strong Obama supporter. We finally have something we can agree on," he continued, talking in a very serious tone to the child, who was attempting to tie his Uncle's hair in knots.

"You _do_ realise that he can't understand a word you're saying," Gigi pointed out to him, taking a carton of milk from a canvas shopping bag, and heading towards the fridge.

"Now Callum, that's what we call a blatant lie. Or in terms of the Government, 'censorship'," he countered, still speaking to the child with the same tone one would speak to a middle aged politician with.

"Whit – my son is going to grow up to be a world famous Neuro-surgeon, _not_ a politician," she said sternly, her grey eyes flashing.

"Oh dear Callum, your mother seems to have just turned this conversation into a House of Lies. Rather shameful of her, really," he responded. "I suppose she's unsuitable to look after you. Looks like I'll have to take over guardianship," he declared, sounding rather pleased. Gigi rolled her eyes at her brother.

"You could get your own, you know. They aren't that hard to make, a bit of morning sickness and the feeling of pushing a watermelon out of your body, and hey presto, you've got a kid," she informed him, pulling a packet of granola bars from one of the bags, taking one out, and then putting the box in a cupboard.

"Physically we might have a slight problem with that concept," Whit objected pointedly, pulling away as Callum tried to insert his fingers in his mouth.

"Well then, I guess you'll just have to give this 'fine eyed' woman a call and initiate the baby-making process," Gigi responded.

"Gigi! Not in front of the minor!" Whit objected sharply, but Callum was only interested in the shirt of his uncle's collar.

"Hush now Fitzwhitlam, young Callum can't understand what Gigi's getting to," Mrs Reynolds said, packing some frozen meats into the freezer.

"And neither do _I_, and that's the way it's going to stay," Whit snapped. "I've had enough of you two pestering me. I'll get married when I want to get married, and right now just isn't the time," he said sternly, but his voice held little reproach, merely slight irritation as he adjusted Callum in his arms, trying to stop the inquisitive little child from crawling over his shoulder.

"Well maybe we'd stop pestering you if you told us what was going on with this 'Lolita' girl you sent all of those presents to," Gigi replied simply, folding up the empty canvas bags used to carry the shopping home.

"Nothing," Whit answered, avoiding eye contact, suddenly appearing very interested with his nephew.

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?" Gigi questioned, frowning slightly with a toss of her beautiful blonde head.

"I mean nothing happened. Nothing is _going_ to happen. And that's the end of it," he replied shortly. Gigi raised an eyebrow questioningly, and Mrs Reynolds surveyed him with her keen brown eyes. "At least _you_ love me. _You're_ not asking me about her," he said to Callum, who was pulling on his shirt.

"Goob."

"How fitting."

"_Whit_, you sent this woman thousands of pounds worth of jewellery, clothing, shoes, _lingerie_," Gigi began sternly.

"No, _you_ took it upon yourself to send her lingerie – I said it was _nice_ when I saw it in the catalogue, that doesn't mean that I want you sending this woman extremely personal gifts without telling me!" he snapped.

"I _did_ tell you," she pointed out. He rolled his eyes.

"Yes, ten minutes after you _sent_ it to her!" he snapped.

"It was the same price, and just as nice as those shoes, I just decided to change the order. I figured she probably needed a little encouragement," she defended herself, opening the wrapper for her granola bar.

"A skimpy set of lingerie is hardly 'encouraging', Gigi," he snapped.

"Well what did she look like in them?" she questioned him simply, taking a bite from the bar.

"I don't bloody well know, now do I!" he responded sharply.

"_Language_, Fitzwhitlam," Mrs Reynolds said sternly. "There _is_ a child present," she pointed out.

"You didn't sleep with her?" Gigi questioned incredulously. "You spend thousands of pounds, and yet you two don't even do it?" she asked blankly.

"Thank you for using such subtlety about the topic, but just because I spent a lot of money doesn't mean that I slept with her. That would put her on the level of a whore – and she's the furthest thing away from a hooker," he snapped. "And why on earth are you being so crass about this? It was my understanding that I raised you to have a bit more delicacy," he added coolly.

"I watched a lot of American TV. And stop avoiding the topic, what happened with this girl?" she asked. Whit sighed.

"I don't want to discuss it."

"Did she go really clingy?"

"No."

"Did she spend too much of your money?"

"No."

"Was she really rude and horrible to you?"

"Far from it. She… told me what I needed to hear, and I'm grateful for it," he replied tiredly, not pulling away from Callum as he pulled on his fringe.

"What? Do you mean she told you that you're wearing too much cologne or something?" Gigi questioned frowningly.

"She made me realise the way that I've been acting recently has been disrespectful and inappropriate. I didn't treat her the way she should have been treated," he sighed.

"Whit, you didn't – you didn't try and –"

"No! _No_, I would _never_ do that!" Whit cried immediately with alarm. "Gigi, _never_. I mean that I was rude to her. I insulted her, and she's not the kind of woman to take lightly to an insult," he said simply.

"I think I'll take the young ward for his nap, he's looking a bit sluggish," Mrs Reynolds declared, stepping towards Whit. He placed Callum in her waiting arms carefully, before she left the brother and sister alone in the kitchen. Gigi jumped up and sat on the edge of the bench, and Darcy leant against it, his arms folded.

"You never told me about her," she said softly, surveying her brother. He had been acting strangely of late, and she didn't understand why. She knew it was something to do with this woman he had been seeing, but that was the extent of her knowledge.

"Of course I have," he replied, frowning slightly as he picked at a threat on the hemline of his shirt.

"No, I mean, you told me her name, her favourite colours, and that she has beautiful eyes, but I don't know anymore about her," she probed. Whit sighed.

"Come on then, I'll show you some pictures," he sighed. Gigi's eyes lit up brightly, and she immediately beamed, sliding off the bench.

"Really? Is she pretty?" she questioned, following her brother out of the kitchen.

"Decidedly so. Not traditionally, she looks a bit unusual, she's of very mixed descent, I think a combination of Irish and Northern European, but she has some very lovely features," he answered. "She's very lovely," he added softly, working his way through the hall leading to his study.

"I know she has blue eyes and red hair, but what else? You said she's pale, is she _really_ pale, like a sickly pale, or just a sort of 'I-don't-tan-well' pale?" she questioned quickly.

"She's very pale. I've never seen skin as white as hers, but it's not… it works for her. Very well. Her skin is like ivory," he explained. "And she has quite red lips. It's an amazing contrast, because I know she doesn't wear lipstick, they're just naturally like that," he continued.

"Is she tall? Short? Thin? Fat?"

"You know all her sizes, you helped pick clothing out for her, remember?" he replied, frowning slightly as they entered his study, a paradise of masculine luxury, leather couches and antique furniture, gorgeously bound and illustrated books littering the walls.

"I know, but I like hearing you describe her," she said, running her fingers over the binding of a book sitting on the entrance table.

"She's not particularly tall. Average, at best. And she's very slender. Not to the point where she has the chest of a twelve year old boy and no curves to speak of, she's… _well endowed_," he said, blushing slightly, "but the rest of her is quite thin. She must do yoga or Pilates or something," he muttered thoughtfully.

"She sounds like someone out of a fairy tale, not a real girl," she said dreamily, taking a seat on one of the leather bound chaise lounges as Whit opened a drawer on his original Chippendale desk.

"She isn't real. Nothing about her is real. Well – in a way, she's very real, but she seems to… have you ever seen _Amélie_? That French film?" he questioned her, pulling out a few magazines.

"She's like Amélie? Are you serious? Isn't she crazy?" Gigi questioned doubtfully. Whit smiled softly.

"No, just immature. She's a child in many ways. And as much as I know she'd hate to admit it, she's rather anti-social. She never seems terribly comfortable with people, she avoids conversation a lot, even with her friends," he replied, ceasing his shuffling through draws and papers for a moment, staring at nothing in particular, a small smile crossing his lips. "Amélie was inside some sort of imaginary world her whole life, she never got any love, any warmth, and she became… broken. She looked at things from a different perspective," he explained. "Lolita is like that. You can see it in her art, it's very prominent, but it's more than that. She seems to be living in a completely different world, she'll rave about something and describe it so vividly, and then get completely distracted by something that only makes sense to her," he continued, his tone growing warm.

"She sounds a bit loopy," Gigi commented. Whit gave a soft laugh.

"I suppose that to a degree, she is," he replied simply. "And… I really don't mind," he added happily, shrugging. "I find it endearing. Like I said, the best word to describe her is 'lovely'. I love how she dresses so… strangely, and yet she looks so beautiful. Some people use physical features to make themselves more attractive – but Lolita uses her personality. She's _alive_, Gigi, she's childish, petty, her head is in the clouds and she's desperate to connect to someone, anyone, someone on her own level, but because she's so darn _unique_ it's just impossible, but she's more alive than anyone I've ever met, she makes living look like… like a game, or a movie, everything is comical and theatrical and _none of it's real_, but at the same time it's so madly _realistic_ that she can almost pretend she's a grownup," he explained. "But she's not. She could live to be a hundred and she'll never grow up – she's like Peter Pan in a dress. God, I've seen her make rational decisions that I never would have thought she'd made, I've seen her bite her tongue because she _knows_ it's the right thing to do, and a few months ago she never could have. She's becoming more mature – but she's not growing up. And I don't have a problem with that," he finished.

"You love her," Gigi stated softly, a smile in her voice, her eyes, and on her lips. "You really do love her, don't you?" she continued, but there was no question in her voice, it was as if someone were stating the most obvious fact in the world.

"Yes. I do," he replied, picking up the magazines, and crossing the room to her. "This is her. Lolita. Clarity has probably told you about her, but I doubt you could have connected the two – Clarity seems to refer to her as 'Lotus' or 'Loopy' on a varying basis," he informed her, opening the magazine.

"My _God_ Whit, this is _her_? This is Lolita?" she questioned in exclamation, staring down at the picture. She saw a slender, but well formed girl with skin as white as snow and eyes the colour of still water, with long scarlet curls framing her heart shaped face. She wore a pretty canary yellow sun frock with white stockings, yellow Mary Jane heels, a straw bonnet and a parasol as she walked through a beautiful field, filled with daisies and long green grasses. She looked elegant, but also childish, the picture was very good, and displayed her childlike enthusiasm, but also a subtle, heavy wisdom and intelligence that seemed to gravitate through her incredibly bright eyes.

"Stunning, isn't she? I told you, she's very striking. Not generically, she has something unspoken about her that I… find very attractive," he commented, as Gigi turned through pages devoted to Clarity's new doll, wearing feminine, childish frocks, engaging in trivial, colourful pursuits, one that only a child would find incredibly engaging.

"I can't believe that you're in love with _Clarity's_ doll. She must be _really_ angry at you," she said sternly, her eyes taking in the pictures.

"I've never cared for Clarity. And I never will. I just wish that she would get the message," he replied.

"How old is she?" Gigi asked curiously.

"She'll be twenty-two at the end of this year."

"Hmm… she's young."

"I know."

"She's beautiful."

"I know."

"She looks very clever."

"She is."

"Is she funny? She looks funny."

"She could make a dead man split their sides."

"So she might get a chuckle out of you then," Gigi teased. Her brother shot her a warning, but playful glare.

"Horrid child," he responded. Gigi laughed, and picked up the next magazine.

"You'll have lovely babies," she commented lightly. Her brother stumbled.

"Gigi, we aren't even in a relationship," he said sternly. Gigi grinned.

"But you _want_ to be in a relationship, you _want_ to have babies with her," she teased. He avoided her eyes.

"Yes. But that's irrelevant. Even if she turned up on our doorstep tomorrow and we eloped this weekend it would be years before… that. With the situation with James, it would practically be her death sentence, not to mention the fact that twenty-one is a ridiculously young age for her to have a child," he pointed out. "I was furious when you had a baby at twenty-three. It's too young. Twenty-one is just… not right," he muttered.

"But you love Callum, and you supported me all through my pregnancy, you were never angry with _me_," she objected. Whit sighed, and rubbed his temples.

"No. And yes, I love Callum, I wouldn't wish for any other nephew, I just wish that… he had come a few years later, when you'd had a chance to live your life a bit more," he explained softly.

"Whit, you were always so worried that I'd have a horrible childhood that you never stopped to think of yours! I love Callum to death, and I'd _never_ wish it any other way, I'm happy like this, deliriously happy. You never seem to consider what _anyone_ wants, not you, not me, you do what's best, and I appreciate that, it's so noble, but you need to loosen up," she explained.

"You know, that was a much softer and less aggressive version of what Lolita said to me," her brother replied, with a tiny smile.

"Ooh, did she swear?" Gigi asked excitedly.

"Several times."

"So when do I get to meet her? When can I start showing her embarrassing baby pictures from your childhood?" she asked excitedly.

"I don't have any embarrassing baby pictures, and it's very unlikely that you're going to meet her. We… didn't part in the best of ways," he explained awkwardly. Gigi quirked an eyebrow.

"Is it just a fight?" she questioned. Whit sighed, and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"I wish it were. I'm not sure. I know that it's not over – it'll never be over, not even when we're both dead and buried, it's just… I don't think she's ready yet," he explained, sighing softly. "I want her to be. God, I want her to be ready so badly, but if I push her, I know she'll just push back, and we'll get nowhere," he continued, staring at the photos in the pages of the magazine, looking remarkably distant, even for him. "But it's just wistful thinking. She made her feelings clear – there's no room for me in her life. She doesn't love me, in fact, she probably hates me, at least, that's what it sounded like," he sighed, sitting back on the lounge, his broad frame silking into the leather as he leant his head back.

"And that's _it_? You, Fitzwhitlam Darcy, who _always_ gets what he wants, is just going to let the most amazing woman in the world, second to me of course, walk away?" she questioned incredulously. Her brother gave a soft, hollow laugh.

"I'm so used to getting what I want these days," he mused thoughtfully. "She wouldn't give me the satisfaction. She's not like that," he added, smiling softly at the mental image of Lolita telling him off for being controlling.

God, he missed her. She was like a limb; he had grown so accustomed to her being there that when he was without her; it was just so… foreign. And he didn't like the feeling at all. He wanted her near; he wanted her close where he could see her, hold her, talk to her, where he knew she was safe and where he knew she was _his_.

"Gigi, you know how I feel about preservation of life," Whit began softly.

"You won't even kill a spider or a fly, you're so noble," she commented with a laugh.

"I've always hated the concept of suicide. It's still murder, it's still death, no matter whose hands are responsible," he continued, staring at empty space before him, an expression across his face that Gigi had never seen before. "But if I had to live the rest of my life without this woman, I don't think that I'd be able to do it. I think I'd kill myself," he said quietly.

"Whit… I don't like you talking like that…"

"I know. And I know I'm being dramatic," he said, resting his head in his hands, and his elbows on his knees, leaning forwards and sighing. "I'm being even more childish than she is sometimes. But – but nothing is supposed to hurt like this," he explained. "Knowing that she's in danger, and I can't protect her, because she hates me. It's just – well, suffice to say it's not a happy feeling," he muttered.

"Hey! You're my big brother! You can't talk like that!" Gigi scolded, shuffling towards him on the couch. "She doesn't deserve you if she can't see how wonderful and amazing you are. Forget her," she said firmly.

Whit laughed softly, and pushed his hair back, sitting up a little. He glanced over at his sister with a small, but warm smile.

"If only it were that simple, Gigi."

**A/N: Please review! I'll update tomorrow night, hopefully, to keep up with my updating schedule :D**


	33. Frustrated Dreams

**A/N: Yaaaaaay! I'm officially sixteen years of age! This has been the best birthday ever (I got a violin :D * squee * ), and I want to thank you for all your lovely birthday wishes, they make me so happy :D So this chapter is just proof that Darcy isn't perfect and wonderful, and that things aren't always fairy-tale perfect. Hehe. :D**

Whit smiled softly at the beautiful sight of his precious little nephew asleep on his lap, his head curled up in his uncle's shoulder as the two sat on an armchair in the library, the room lit by the dim red light from the fireplace, rain pattering lightly outside.

Winter had hit hard and fast. The days in the North were decidedly chillier than in London, but Whit couldn't help but prefer them. He loved Pemberley, he had grown up in it, he knew it like he knew no other place in the world. And now Callum, or 'Little Dove', as Gigi liked to call him, would call the grand halls and richly decorated rooms his home too.

But he couldn't help but wish that maybe it wasn't Callum resting in his arms, but Lolita, just as she had done months before. He was in a torment. Every thought was of _her_, no matter how hard he tried to push her out of his mind. He sighed, as he held Callum closer to his chest. Gigi had what he would never have. And being an uncle to her son would never be enough, it would never give him what he wanted, because Callum was not _his_ child, and there could never _be_ a child, not one that he could call his own. Everything would go to Callum.

The hardest part was that he missed her. He missed her terribly, more than he thought he could ever miss another human being, he missed what she had given to his life in such a short amount of time, and he missed the hope that he had for the future.

He softly kissed the top of Callum's head, hoping that the silent tears wouldn't awaken him. What he had was just going to _have_ to be enough, because there was no hope of Lolita ever being in his life.

~ * ~

Loli placed the phone down on the base, and released a long sigh. She had been talking to Joan for about three hours, and the entire time, all she could think was 'why can't you just _tell_ me how you feel? Why can't you _please_ be angry?'

She had been in England for another two weeks, and was yet to see Darcy, or hear any word on his return. What with Chandra still living in the Riviera (even though Chandra had admitted that she had seen Richard a few times, and was beginning to regret her decision to live with Colin), and Joan still doing her coarse in America, company had been hard to come by.

She didn't have any particular connection with any of her co-workers, no matter how hard she tried, she was still 'the new kid' with the connections, and she knew the boss quite well (or at least she thought she did) outside of work, so it was a little bit difficult for them to believe that she had gotten the job as Main Illustrator purely from hard work.

She wished she had more to fill up her time with. Sure, she was working very hard, but there was only so much work you could do, particularly when you're only permitted to come into the office three days a week, as someone is trying to kill you.

Clarkson was very stingy with the information he gave her. No, James Wickham had not been charged for trying to poison her, because they had no proof. Yes, he was still in England. Yes, there was a price out on her kidnapping instated by his 'people'. Yes, her security had to be tightened. Yes, he had tried to kill her again. Yes, they had managed to find out, and stop him before it became a serious threat.

The fear had worn off now. There was a guard downstairs in the lobby at all times, the security in Darcy Designs had practically been doubled, and she was quite certain that a body guard followed her around the streets of London at all times. No, with such tight security, she didn't fear for her life. She was sick of it, however. She knew that running away from it all would just be stupid and immature, but it was very difficult for her to stay.

And it didn't help that she had been thinking of Darcy almost non-stop. No, that didn't help at all.

Loli sighed angrily, and fell back onto her couch. She was frustrated to no end. She took a deep breath, and then sat up – her mind made up. She had decided.

Taking out her mobile, she searched through the contacts, before finding the desired name, and pressing the green call button on her HipTop.

"Richard? Yes, it's Squishy. I need a favour."

Richard was remarkably eager to assist, and gladly handed over the address and directions, giving her his best wishes for the future. She took them with a guilty conscience – he was barking up the wrong tree.

She glanced at the clock. It was quite early in the morning, it had to be so that she could talk to Joan, and it would take a few hours to get to Derbyshire. She glanced outside, it was raining heavily, and she could feel the cold seeping through the windows from across the room. She quickly showered, and changed into her favourite mint green trench coat and skinny leg jeans, wrapping herself up in beanies and scarfs.

Within half an hour she was in the front seat of Joan's car, winding her way out of the city. She couldn't believe what she was doing, but her resolve was not wavering – she had things that needed to be said, and she was damn well going to say them.

It took about three hours before she was on Derbyshire Road, heading towards Lambton, a small city on the outskirts of the countryside. She stopped at Starbucks for coffee, before she was off again, only twenty minutes from Pemberley.

"Am I on the right road?" she asked the drowsy looking barista as he handed her the extra large foam cup.

"To Pemberley? If you keep going through the main road you'll be fine. You can't miss it," he replied, stifling a yawn. "In fact, almost the moment you're out of Lambton you'll be surrounded by Pemberley grounds. The Darcy's own pretty much everything here," he added.

"Thanks," she said quickly, before slipping out of the coffee shop with haste.

She tried to focus on the road in front of her, but she had this strange feeling, knowing that he was so close, and that she was going to see him in only a few minutes. She glanced at the scenery around her, frosty green fields that seemed to span on forever, the well-risen and blinding morning sun setting everything alight with pale gold reflections. She passed several cottages; they were probably his tenants, farming the land surrounding the manor.

She wondered what it would be like to live in the country. She'd never really done it before, it seemed much too slow for her, she loved the hustle and bustle of the big cities, but maybe something quiet could be good in it's own way too. She smiled softly. She wouldn't mind living in Derbyshire, maybe there were some nice apartments on the outskirts of Lambton that she could…

_Oh_, was all she could think, any rational thought disappearing from her mind. _Oh hell_.

She stopped the car outside of the incredibly tall iron gate. She got out of the car, and approached it in hesitation.

Words completely failed her. It was amazing. It was breathtaking. It was a _palace_.

Looking over white gravel paths lined by gorgeous oak trees that seemed to go on forever, and a huge mass of water, littered with lilies and stunning black swans, their long necks tucked beneath their wings as they silently floated upon the ultramarine surface, rippling slightly as they ruffled their charcoal feathers, and over to the large marble steps leading up to the most beautiful home she had ever seen.

It was roughly the size of one, maybe two football pitches from the front, and several stories high. It looked like a combination of Catherine Palace in St. Petersburg, and the Palace of Versailles in Northern France, and yet had something so stunningly humble about it that the word 'castle', despite the size and grandeur of the building, seemed too inappropriate. No, it was more like heaven on earth, really.

Loli stepped towards the intercom with trepidation, pressing down on the button, and speaking in a nervous voice.

"I – umm, hello," she said weakly.

"I'm sorry, the tours don't start until one o'clock today," a voice replied after a moment's silence.

"No, I – I need to speak with Mister Darcy. It's an urgent matter concerning Darcy Designs – I'm his Main Illustrator of the Graphical Illustration department," she said, her voice firmer.

"And do you have an appointment?" the voice asked in return.

"Uh, no, I don't, but I have security clearance from Robert Clarkson," she replied.

"Very well then. Please drive to the front entrance, I'll open the doors for you," the voice responded, before the intercom cut out with a low buzz. Loli breathed deeply, and headed back to the car, sliding into the front seat just as the heavy gates opened. She drove through on the oak-lined road, her heart racing at a million miles an hour.

She stopped the car in front of the marble steps, and got out for a second time, her legs trembling in the flat leather boots she wore. She was practically shaking as she headed up towards the large mahogany doors, her feeble little knock on the hard surface sounding remarkably pathetic.

The doors opened, yellow light spilling out from a brightly lit entrance hall. A woman in her fifties with a dark blonde streaked with grey bun stood before her, wearing an apron tied loosely around her waist. She had kind brown eyes, her face weathered and lined, but she didn't look upset. Curious as to the intruding stranger, but not angry.

"Mister Darcy is in the study. Would you like me to fetch him, or announce you?" she questioned politely, stepping aside so Loli could enter the hall.

"I – uh, no, I only need to speak with him for a minute," she replied, trying to speak in coherent sentences when her mind was positively reeling.

She felt like she had stepped into Hogwarts. The floor was made of highly polished burgundy and white marble, making the entire room look like a living chess board. It seemed to go on forever, the grand staircase; the chandelier the size of a small car, the milkwood coloured walls with golden trimmings, even the gorgeous oil paintings on the wall seemed to be endless, the room was so huge. She could see up to the second floor, rows of mahogany doors, all closed, glimpsed only behind a marble banister that curled and swirled like smoke up the stairs. It was a palace. There was no other way to explain it. A palace with a front entrance hall roughly the size of a plane hanger.

"Very well then, would you like some refreshments, or do you wish to be taken directly to the Master's study?" she questioned.

"No – I – I just need a moment," Loli managed to get out. 'Master?' Who _was_ this man?

_Only the Earl of Derbyshire, owner and President of the Darcy Empire, and 'the one that got away'. _

"If you would follow me then, Miss," the lady replied, leading Loli to one of the many hallways leading out of the entrance. She stepped quietly, taking in her surroundings, Persian rugs, Renaissance paintings, silk screens, gorgeous antique furniture, it all screamed out ridiculously expensive, stunningly Victorian English (quite similar to how she had decorated her flat, without the excess of pink and lace), and yet… not gaudy, like Rosings in the Riviera had been. No, it looked like a home, not just some sort of palace or exclusive arts museum, it had beauty _and_ personality.

She sighed. It would be nice to call such a place home.

"This is the study, Miss. Would you like me to announce you?" the woman said, stopping before a closed mahogany door.

"No, thank you. You've been very helpful," Loli smiled. The woman gave a warm nod, and headed back the way they had come.

Loli took a deep breath, gripped the door knob, and turned.

"Mrs Reynolds, if you offer me a cup of tea one more time –" came a teasing, rather than irritated voice as she stepped into the room. It was stunning, decidedly masculine, and clearly designed for business, but a great deal of pleasure could be taken from the gorgeous books on the walls, or the comfortable looking armchairs by a large fireplace, that much was made clear.

He glanced up from the laptop on the desk, his expression turning instantly to one of surprise. His eyebrows raised slightly, and his mouth dropped, just a little, making him look stunningly confused.

He looked tired. There were dark circles surrounding his bloodshot eyes, he probably hadn't shaved in a few weeks, if the dark stubble was any indication, and his dark blue sweater over a white Oxford shirt was rather rumpled.

But more than anything he looked just as beautiful as always.

"L – Lolita?"

His voice awoke her from her trance.

"M - Mister Darcy," she began, her tone weak, shaking and filled with trepidation. She took a step forwards. He stood up quickly.

"I'm dreaming," he stated simply, swallowing rather obviously. "It's just another dream. You're there – but you're not _here_, you're not real," he continued, as if trying to convince himself, rather than her. He ran a hand through his hair quickly, his eyes never leaving her.

"I'm perfectly real," she stated, her voice steadier. She took another few steps forwards. "I – I needed to talk to you, so I got your address off Richard," she continued, biting her lip in nervousness.

"No, you – you aren't real, because you can't be," he said firmly, stepping out from behind his desk. She didn't resist when he pulled her towards his chest, because as much as she knew it shouldn't, his embrace was something she had missed so very much. She could hear his heart beat, it was quick, but steady, deep reverberations that echoed right through her. "But you're here, and you – you're warm, a – and you smell like you –"

"Yeah. Whit, I know. I'm alive, and all that jazz," Loli muttered quietly, knowing full well that she was so close to giving in. "Please – let me just –" she began, pulling away from his grip. He only held on stronger, pressing his lips against her temple.

"I don't know if you're real," he stated simply.

"I am."

"Honest?"

"Would I tell you if I weren't?"

"You might."

"Well, I am real. I'm your Disney Princess girl, whatever. I have something to say, and I need to say it," she replied, pushing back against his grip. She slid out of his arms, and took a few steps back, avoiding his eyes. She didn't want to be cruel. She didn't want to be childish. She needed to leave; it was a stupid idea to come.

"I don't understand," he said softly, his eyes searching her. "You made it perfectly clear that you don't – so why are you ­–"

"Here? I'm not even sure," she confessed, sighing, and squeezing her eyes shut, rubbing the tiredness and the weariness of travel from them. "I need to say something, and you can't interrupt me, okay? Because I need to get this out, or else I'll just… explode, or something. I need to say it, so I'm going to, and don't you _dare_ stop me," she said quickly, opening her eyes again. He was looking pleadingly into hers.

"What's going on?"

"I just want you to know that – that I'm sorry," she stated, releasing a long, deep breath.

Darcy didn't say anything, merely stared. He stared at her with his usual intensity, more so, in fact, and she didn't know if she could, let alone _should_ continue.

"You're _sorry_?" he repeated incredulously, running a hand through his messy dark hair. "Sorry? That's _it_?" he questioned, giving a bitter laugh.

"I – I shouldn't have said those things, and there's a lot of things you shouldn't have done, or said, but I – I acted stupidly too, I acted like a child, and I need you to know that I'm sorry," she recited nervously.

"And?"

"What do you mean, '_and_'?" she questioned, frowning. "This is hard for me, Darcy! I'm doing my fucking best!" she cried.

"You're sorry. What happens now?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"I – I go back to London, we continue working together, live moves on as normal," she said doubtfully, wondering what he was saying.

"And what's 'normal'? Where do we stand?" he questioned sharply. Loli took a step back. Things weren't turning out for the best already.

"Darcy," she began unsteadily. "_Whit_. It doesn't matter how – how I feel, or how you feel, the point is, I can't – I can't forgive you until Joan does. I need to forgive you before… anything else," she explained. "So until then, this has to be goodbye," she added, wondering where her strength had gone all of a sudden.

"That's not good enough," Darcy stated simply.

"This isn't negotiable, Whit," Loli replied, frowningly, mimicking his stance.

"What if I call Caleb, tell him everything, and he speaks to Joan, then what happens?" he asked in return.

"It depends what Joan says. If Cale tells her about your involvement, and she's willing to forgive you, then I guess we… we go back to normal," she answered.

"Normal being you living in that tiny shoebox and me going to bed alone every night," he stated simply. Loli tried to fight a blush, and a growing sense of irritation.

"No, you're the boss, I'm the employee, we know each other out of work, your old school friend is trying to kill me, that normal," she snapped. "As you keep on reminding me, I'm twenty-one. I work for you. I'm ridiculous. And any relationship between us means a price on my head," she pointed out.

"And do you honestly think that I would let you come in harm's way if we entered a relationship?" he questioned. "That no matter your feelings towards me, I would _ever_ let you get hurt?" he continued, sounding upset and angered that she had even apparently considered the thought.

"I almost _died_."

"And I almost lost the most important thing in the world to me!" he cried in sharp response, his reaction startling her as he stepped forwards. "I think that puts us on quite even footing, _Miss Gardiner_," he practically spat, his eyes darkened with anger.

"I came her to apologise, to try and prove to you and to myself that I'd grown up a little!" she cried. "I didn't come here for intimidation – I came here to let you know that I'm _sorry_ for what happened," she added curtly.

"And an email, or a phone call, that was just too much for you? Just something to let me know that you're alive? Instead I get six weeks of _silence_? Was it just that impossible to talk to me?" he questioned sharply.

"It hurt," she admitted pointedly.

"I can assure you, Miss Gardiner; it's hurt me a great deal more."

"Why are you doing this? Acting this way?"

"When the woman that you would give anything for tells you that she thinks you're filth, you tend to lose any delicacy."

"I'm sorry."

"You said that before."

"I need to go home."

"You are home."

"You know what I mean – I need to go back to London. Don't try and make me stay."

"Well I'm certainly not going to make you go," he replied simply, leaning forwards, and pressing his lips against hers.

'Leaving', indeed. _What a silly idea_, she thought vaguely, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, right before all thought slipped from her mind.

**A/N: Okay, so, to the anonymous reviewer that didn't leave a name. Thank you for reading, and reviewing, even if stating that the story is 'weird' wasn't my idea of constructive criticism. I'm sorry if the whole Lolita business confused you, but I didn't assume that people understood the fashion, I know full well that it's very unlikely that people have ever heard of it. I provided examples of outside research, and some information in some earlier chapters for those new to Lolita, so perhaps you missed it. Thanks for the review, and I'm not trying to get all defensive or whatever, but please, leave another message, giving me some hints as to what you thought needed to be changed, because those are the reviews I like best. :D Thank you for your opinion :D**


	34. Magic in a Midnight Sun

**A/N: Okay, so this is a **_**looooooooong**_** chapter, that is steering away from canon. Yeah, it'll all be a little blurry and off course from here. And Darcy and Loli have THE TALK, about the S word. Yes, they discuss socks, people.**

She was only vaguely aware that what was happening shouldn't be happening. It was like a little sign in the back of her head, one that she had ignored completely, and wished to keep on ignoring, because when he kissed her, the entire world stopped spinning.

It wasn't meant to have happened that way. She was meant to tell him the truth, and then to leave. He was meant to understand that she was trying, and respect that, before calling Cale and telling _him_ the truth. He wasn't meant to be angry at her.

But, she realised, he did have every right to be angry. She teased him, she insulted him, she confused him and toyed with him, right before he confessed everything, guilty at the situation he had put her in, and then had his head chewed off by her with information that wasn't true, merely gossip. And to top it all off, she just waltzed into his home unannounced to tell him that she wasn't going to give a relationship a try until he had made amends for actions he had justified as being on his friend's behalf.

Yes, she was angry with him, but she had no right. He had every reason to be angry with her, and yet there they were, in the middle of his study, her hands tangled in his hair and his held tightly around her waist, as if he was afraid of letting her go.

_Don't do this to yourself_…

She tried to ignore the little thought running through her mind.

_You saw what happened the last time you became involved with someone older, more powerful than you_.

She frowned against his lips, but he didn't notice, he was too busy making her jelly-legged.

_You both get hurt in the end_.

She wanted to keep on ignoring the little whisperings of a conscience floating through her brain, but they were getting so loud.

_You're a child. You're young and immature, and it's worked so far. No one gets hurt this way. No one gets involved; no one has to pay the price_.

She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to block it all out. Darcy took her small noise as encouragement, and started an assault on her jaw line.

_It's self-defence!_

She pulled away from him sharply, fighting the stinging tears developing in her eyes, wanting nothing more than to wake up, and find it all some sort of frustrated dream. She headed for the door.

"Not this time!" Darcy practically barked, grabbing her wrist, and pulling her back towards him.

"I have to go," she managed to get out weakly, pulling away, but he was only pulling back on her.

"Lolita, you're going to stay put. We're going to resume kissing. And I'm never going to hear anymore of your 'I have to go', or 'I shouldn't be here' nonsense, _ever_," he said sternly. She didn't turn and look him in the eye, because she knew that if she did, she never _could_ leave him.

"Don't tell me what to do," she muttered coolly, taking another step towards the door with quick determination.

"Don't make excuses," he responded, his eyes finding hers. She wasn't even aware that her back was pressed against the door that she was trying to use for her escape, all she was aware of was his stunningly pale silver eyes, staring right through her with every little bit of intensity he had ever shown her. "Now you might think that your system is flawless. That if you act, dress and behave like a child, you'll never have to face the responsibility that comes with adulthood," he began, his breath warm against her slightly bruised lips. "But I can tell you this much, _Lolita_, you are _not_ going to pull that one on me. I refuse to let you run away from here, just because you don't understand how you feel. Are we clear?" he questioned heavily.

"Perfectly," she replied simply, raising her eyes to meet his. If he wanted to play it that way, then fine by her. "And let me tell you something, Mister Darcy. I know fully well that I am in no position to argue with you. Partially because of the way that I've acted, and partially because I'm against a wall and you're twice my size," she began. "But right now, in this room, you aren't my boss. You can't make me do whatever you want me to do. And if I want to leave, for whatever reasons, you're going to step aside, and let me leave. Are we clear?" she questioned, her jaw set firm.

"And yet, Miss Gardiner, since I pushed you against this wall, you haven't made any demands for me to let you go," he pointed out, his voice quiet. She didn't even need to hear him say a word. She could feel it.

"Would you let me if I did ask?" she questioned doubtfully.

"No."

"Then why should I bother?"

"Precisely."

And so she kissed him.

~ * ~

Sarah Marie Reynolds knew all.

Well, all that there was to know about the family she had been serving for thirty years. She knew Fitzwhitlam Darcy backwards, and she knew the moment that he walked into Pemberley six weeks ago that he was in love. She also knew that he certainly wasn't happy about it.

She didn't know with whom, but she was quite sure that it wasn't that horrid Clarity Bingley girl. But she _knew_ the moment that the young, pretty girl with pale skin, flaming red hair and eyes the colour of still water stepped into the entrance hall that she was the one. Having seen her face in all of the magazines that her employer had in the top draw of his desk also gave her a few hints.

After sending the girl into the study, she instantly bustled upstairs to the Mistresses chambers – knocking swiftly and entering. Gigi sat on the bed, with Callum gurgling happily as she rubbed his belly.

"Georgiana, dear, hurry! Quick!" she said breathlessly.

"Whatever for?" Gig questioned curiously, glancing up at the intruder.

"F – Fitzwhitlam's young lady h – has come!" she cried. Gigi squealed joyfully, and picked up her son.

"Really? Is she pretty? Is she going to stay? Forever, or just for a little while? Where is she? Can I meet her?" she questioned excitedly, sliding off the large bed. "It's still so early! Why did she come here so early? I haven't even changed yet!" she cried in exasperation.

"Quick, your dressing gown is on the end of the bed, we have to hurry! I think I heard them arguing when I came up!" Mrs Reynolds replied, taking Callum as the young lady slid into her silk dressing robe, covering her nightgown. She accepted the child back and they raced into the hall and downstairs as quickly as they could.

"What was she like?" Gigi asked breathlessly as they scampered down the stairs, Callum laughing joyfully at the adventure they were having.

"She seemed quite polite, very pretty, but a little bit upset," Mrs Reynolds explained quickly, stepping off the staircase and rushing across the marble floor to the hallway.

"I can't wait to meet her!" Gigi said joyfully, her eyes shining with delight.

"We should knock first," Mrs Reynolds said as they stood before the study door.

"If they're arguing, we need to break it up fast," she tried to rationalise, grabbing the handle with her free hand that wasn't holding Callum to her chest, and pushing the door open.

Her brother sat atop his desk, his hair ruffled and his shirt even more creased than what it had been before, probably due to the fact that there was a woman sitting on his lap, with long scarlet hair, jeans and a black tank top, a coat, beanie and scarf lying abandoned on the floor, being snogged senseless by the man that Gigi had always considered quiet and reserved, on hand buried somewhere in her long hair, the other on an uncovered part of the small of her back where her shirt had ridden up.

"Gigi!" she heard her brother cry, completely aghast, tearing his lips away from the girl, his eyes wide. "What the _hell_ are you doing? Y – you can't just come in here and –" he began, glaring at his little sister in anger.

"_Fitzwhitlam_! You haven't even offered this lovely lady a cup of tea and you're kissing her on your desk? Such horrid behaviour," Mrs Reynolds scolded.

"Could you not have _knocked_?" he questioned pointedly, just as Callum started to cry. The girl just looked at the new intruders with curiosity, and deep mortification, making a move to slide of Whit's lap. "Oh no, none of this again," he said sternly, pulling her back to her original position.

"Shhhh, quiet Little Dove, _please_?" Gigi begged her son, holding him close to her chest as he wailed, his little face turning red. She bobbed him up and down a few times, and cooed to him softly, and his crying ceased to a small gurgle.

"Loli, I'm sorry that they – please, don't leave –" Darcy pleaded to the woman, who had removed herself from his lap.

"I – uh, I should go," she muttered, her face bright red.

"_No_, Lolita, stay," he said sternly, he too getting to his feet. "I'm sorry that they intruded. Stay here," he practically begged, placing a hand on her arm.

"No – I need to get back home," she tried to explain, pulling away.

"Shall the young lady be staying for breakfast, Fitzwhitlam?" Mrs Reynolds questioned, breaking the tension in the room.

"Yes, she will," he replied, turning back to the woman. "This is Mrs Reynolds, she runs Pemberley. And this is Gigi and Callum, my sister and nephew," he informed her, pointing to each person respectively. "This is Lolita Gardiner. She's going to stay here for a while," he informed the women and the gurgling baby, his tone indicating no further questions should be asked.

"Kind of you for informing me," the woman muttered sarcastically.

"Well I'm telling you now. Gigi, you have a class this afternoon, don't forget. I'll tell Mortimer to have a car ready," he said, glancing over at his sister. "Mrs Reynolds, please prepare a room for Lolita to use, the blue suite, I think," he added, nodding to his housekeeper.

"Of course," she replied.

"You can't just kidnap me! My brothers and sisters are coming over to London tomorrow! And Mum and Edgar too!" she cried angrily.

"We'll call them and tell them to come here then," he answered simply.

"I – uh – I need to go change," muttered Gigi, glancing between the two, before ducking out of the room with haste.

"I'll go and fix breakfast. It won't be too long," Mrs Reynolds said, smiling brilliantly, and disappearing from the study.

Darcy sighed deeply as the door closed, and sat back on the edge of his desk.

"So, you've met them," he stated simply.

"You don't get it, I can't just stay here," Loli said in irritation. "I have a job, you know, in fact, I _work_ for _you_," she added pointedly.

"I can have someone bring you some things from your apartment, your laptop and such, you can work from here," he said, shrugging lightly.

"I don't _want_ to work here, I came here to say I'm sorry, and now I have, so let me go!" she demanded.

"No. You toyed with the wrong man, Lolita," he replied, his voice steady and intense. "I have a tendancy to get what I want. And what I want is _you_. So you aren't leaving this house, are we clear?" he questioned, his voice frighteningly calm.

A sharp ringing noise came from his desk just as Loli was about to object, and he immediately picked up a phone sitting behind him.

"Clarkson? What are you –" he said as he picked up the phone.

He frowned in silence, listening to the voice on the other line.

"No. She's not. She came here this morning, she's fine," he said, after about five or ten minutes of painful silence.

"_Yes_, she's right in front of me. Have there been any deaths? Was anyone hurt?" he questioned, before saying nothing again for a few minutes.

"Keep a close wrap on things. We don't know if there could be a second attack," he ordered, before frowning slightly.

"A few days at least. She's got family coming in, they were going to go to London, but I'll arrange it so they come here," he added after the person on the other line gave a rather lengthy speech. "I agree. Call Clarity, tell her to keep her mouth shut, keep it officially unconfirmed, but tell her family what's going on. Release a statement to the press, tell them that we don't know anything, but it's possible. I'll email you a list of things she needs from her apartment in the time being," he continued.

"Yes, I'll do my best. I'll talk to you soon," he finished, before hanging the phone up, and releasing a long breath of relief.

"What happened?" Loli questioned quickly, her heart racing. Was someone in trouble? Had something happened?

"Come here," he said softly, his voice weak. He urged her to come to his arms, pulling her close to his chest as she stepped forwards. "At about seven o'clock this morning, a small bomb went off on the route to take to work, just outside your building," he began, holding her very, very close. "There haven't been any confirmed deaths, a few injuries, but because no one knew where you were, they – they thought that you – it's on the news – y – you're missing," he informed her in a strained tone.

"People were hurt?" she questioned, swallowing, a sense of dread overcoming her.

"They're been taken to hospital. We don't know if anyone died," he muttered quietly. She turned her head.

"People were hurt because someone wanted to kill _me_?" she said, her tone suggesting anger.

"It's not your fault, you didn't do anything wrong," he tried to convince her. "You're alive. That's the important thing. You're alive, and you're here, you're safe, and if James thinks you're dead, he's not going to come after you again," he explained.

"It'll only take them a few days to determine if anyone was killed, and just because I'm missing, doesn't mean that they'll assume I'm dead," she argued. "They're going to check the work databases, I had to log in that I wasn't going to be at home today! They'll know that I'm not dead!" she continued. "You – you want me to pretend that I was killed, wasting time for people who have to look for me, whilst my friends and family worry their minds out?" she questioned sharply.

"We'll tell everyone who needs to know the truth, Lolita," he explained steadily.

"And what about my father? We still don't know where he is! What if he turns on the TV and sees that I'm suspected dead? What do you think he'll do?" she asked sarcastically.

"It's the only thing we can do to make sure that you aren't killed!"

"_No_, you can let me go back to London, call of the security, and make it clear that I'm _not_ scared – if he knows you're protecting me he's going to keep on trying!" she cried angrily, pulling away from him. "This is _lying_, Darcy, and you know it! You know that as long as you're making all of this fuss, he's going to think that he's got a _reason_ for killing me. Show him that you don't care, and he won't keep this up! If not, you're just going to get more people hurt," she practically spat.

"I refuse to let you die, Lolita. If you hadn't come here this morning, you would probably be dead. Doesn't that scare you?" he questioned, stepping closer to her, his jaw set and firm. She glared at him. "I see. So you want to play brave little soldier _now_, instead of run away, like you do every other situation? Why is it you're so childish when it comes to relationships with other human beings, but you choose _now_ to act maturely?" he questioned pointedly.

"I'm not a people person," she said curtly.

"And I refuse to lose you."

"Then _let me go_," she ordered pointedly.

"No. It might be the responsible thing to do, but it's too risky – I am _not_ going to send you back into London by yourself! He's tried to kill you a dozen times now – this last stunt is proof that he doesn't care if he hurts other people to get to you, to get to me!" he cried angrily. "I'm not just letting you walk out of here unprotected! If I lose you –"

"Tell me the truth. Have other people been hurt because James was trying to kill me?" she questioned. Darcy fell silent.

"Yes," he said quietly, after a long pause.

"Has anyone been killed?" she asked in a strained voice.

"Lolita, I'm not prepared to – to –"

"You're putting other people in danger!" she cried angrily. "Other people are being injured, maybe even _killed_, and all you can care about is how you would feel if I were hurt? Are you that selfish?" she questioned doubtfully. "We all have to make sacrifices, Darcy," she said, when he made no response, merely glared at the floor.

"And are _you_ the sacrifice I have to make?" he asked, raising his voice in sudden anger.

"Maybe I am!" she retorted pointedly, as he gave a bitter laugh.

"So what do I do then?" he questioned sharply. "Dress you in a white gown and put you on a pedestal so someone can cut out your heart and offer it to the gods?" he asked sarcastically. "Or maybe I throw you onto a pyre, drenched in your own blood!" he suggested. "Tell me, Lolita, how I ensure your death?" he continued.

"You want to know how to kill me? Keep me here. Let's live your little Disney fantasy life, and just see how long it takes for James Wickham to arrange another bomb to go off in a street where I _might_ have been walking!" she cried vehemently. "I _refuse_ to run from him. I _refuse_ to let other to be hurt. Publicly disgrace me. Tell Clarity magazine you're homosexual. I don't care. Just let the world know that you _don't_ love me!" she demanded angrily.

"I was taught not to lie."

"Then sit back and watch James Wickham kill more innocent people."

"Don't you _dare_ try and hand me an ultimatum! If I have to choose between every single innocent human being in this world and you, I would _always_ pick you!" he cried. "If you make me choose you, and blame innocent deaths on me, then I swear to God, I –"

"I'm not _letting_ you choose, Whit," she said simply. "I'm leaving. I'm going back to London. I'll be photographed with another man, just to prove that there's nothing between us, and all this will end," she recited decidedly.

"If another man even _looked_ at you, I'd kill him," he spat.

"Pretty soon, they're going to realise that I'm not dead, and they're going to start looking for me. James will keep on bombing streets filled with people, threaten my friends and family, and when he finds me, he's going to come here," she began, trying to keep her tone steady. "And he won't kill me outright. Not when he knows that I've been here, with you," she continued, swallowing, looking him straight in the eyes, even though it was killing her. He needed to understand. "He'll take me, and use me against you. He'll blackmail you into giving him everything, to giving him custody of Callum, and you'll do it, you'll hand over everything you own, everything you've worked for, all of it, just to stop him," she said, her voice growing weaker, but she never looked away from him.

"Don't."

"And he'll kill me anyway. You'll have lost everything, and it won't have mattered, because I'll be dead," she said simply, tearing her eyes away from him as he fought a pained expression.

"I love you," he said quietly.

"I know."

"I'd do anything for you," he informed her.

"I'm aware."

"I'd lose everything for you, if it meant we could have some time. Even just a little bit."

"I don't doubt that."

"For Christ's sake – _feel something_!" he cried suddenly, wheeling around. "Feel _anything_! Feel pain! Feel anger! Stop – stop standing there, trying to leave! Stop making excuses for the way that we feel about each other!" he demanded.

"I feel sad."

"Is that it?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"Why?"

"Because I just grew up. And I don't like it."

"Then _stay_," he pleaded.

"No, it's not going to work that way," she said softly, before taking a deep breath. "If my car drove into a ditch, or a tree of something –" she began.

"No."

"– then Wickham would stop, and –"

"You are _not_ killing yourself!"

"And the alternative is me killing other people?" she questioned incredulously, staring up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Whit, you're being _so _selfish. You would sacrifice everything in the world for one person – that isn't fair! Someone could have died today, someone with a family that loves them, someone who didn't deserve this!" she cried.

"_I_ love you! _You_ don't deserve this! _I_ don't deserve this!" he argued, his silver eyes filled with unspent, angry tears.

"I know," she said softly, stepping forwards, and wrapping her arms around him, pressing her head to his chest in a comforting embrace. He returned the gesture, pulling her tightly to himself. "But I'm just a girl who likes to wear funny dresses and draw pictures. I've screwed up several times, _really_ badly. And I caused this, so I have to accept the responsibility," she continued.

"By making me fall in love with you, you deserve to be killed?" he questioned angrily. "If anything, _I_ should be the one that gets killed – this is all my fault!" he argued, still clutching her to his chest.

"Gigi and Callum need you, Whit."

"And _I_ need _you_."

"Breakfast!"

They turned, and glanced at the door that Mrs Reynolds was behind, calling them into the kitchen.

"This is no longer open for discussion. You're staying at Pemberley. I'll gain a fucking court order if I have to – but I am _not_ letting you kill yourself," he spat, gripping her wrist, and pulling her towards the door leading out to the hall before she had a chance to even object.

He didn't say a word to her as they sat down at the breakfast table. She had tried to explain to Mrs Reynolds that she needed to go home, but one look from him silenced her, and she obediently sat down opposite Darcy in the luxurious breakfast parlour.

"Tea, or coffee, Miss Gardiner?" Mrs Reynolds asked politely.

"Uh, coffee, and please, call me Loli, or Lolita," she smiled in return. Darcy curtly glared at her, and then rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and burning a hole in the carpet with his gaze.

"Anything you're allergic to? If you want, I can fix you anything you'd like," Mrs Reynolds offered, smiling warmly.

"No, this is wonderful. Thank you," she replied, indicating the table spread. Mrs Reynolds smiled.

"Thank you, my dear, that's very kind of you to say," she said, pouring out her cup of coffee. She filled up Darcy's cup, and another one, presumably for Gigi, before leaving the room.

"You can stop glaring at me now," she said to Darcy pointedly.

"How nice of you to offer," he said sarcastically. "I was just wondering why you can be so nice to people you've never met, and yet I don't seem to get that kind of preferential treatment," he said pointedly, shooting her another glare, before returning his gaze to the carpet.

"Stop acting like a six-year-old, Darcy," she said coolly. "You want me to leave? Say the word," she requested.

"You know very well that I don't want you to leave – so stop talking about it," he ordered coldly. "But I'd prefer if you could save one of those smiles for me. However, I've grown accustomed to a lack of warmth from you," he added curtly.

"Stop acting like a kid that got its toys taken away, Darcy," Loli advised pointedly.

"Stop denying me my toys then, Gardiner," he countered.

"Good morning," came a cheerful, but slightly timid voice, as Gigi the woman Darcy had introduced as his sister, Gigi, entered, a baby held in her arms, cutting their conversation short.

She was quite tall and slender, with a similar skin tone to her brother, but her hair was blonde in colour, and her eyes a little bit darker than his. She was quite attractive, but it was clear that she had trouble talking to people she didn't know. She seemed awfully shy.

"Hi, I'm Gigi, Whit's sister," she said, approaching Loli, and taking a seat beside her. She had changed into a nice dark green skirt and white button up shirt, her hair pulled into a short ponytail.

"Lolita Gardiner, I work for your brother," Loli replied, smiling warmly. "You can call me Loli though. This is a really lovely house," she commented, as Gigi smiled, and blushed slightly.

"We've lived here for a long time," she responded softly. "We're very happy here. Whit loves it," she informed her, rocking the baby in her arms softly. He had a large mop of blonde hair, and looked very much like his mother, there was no trace of James Wickham in his face. "Oh, this is Callum, my son. He's a dear," she informed her, smiling down at the little pink wriggling thing. "Would you like to hold him?" she asked excitedly.

"Oh, I… no, I don't do so well with children," she answered, wincing slightly. "They tend to cry when I go near them. You're lucky that he hasn't started up already," she added, glancing warily at the little baby, who was staring at her with wide eyes.

"I used to think that too, and then he came into my life," Gigi said, sighing happily. "Whit is excellent with him. They get along famously," she added, glancing over at her brother, who was still staring vehemently at the ground. "Whit? Is something wrong?" she questioned quietly.

"I'm not sure, Gigi. Why don't you ask our little self-sacrificing guest? Although, I don't think she's capable of giving a straight answer, that might cause a slight problem," he said sarcastically. "But be careful about showing any sort of concern for her, she'll misconstrue it as selfishness and try to leave you," he added snappishly.

"W – Whit?" Gigi questioned quietly, sounding rather hurt and confused.

"Can I have a word, Darcy?" Loli said suddenly, standing up.

"I have nothing I wish to say, Miss Gardiner," he replied curtly.

"Well then, you can listen," she spat, walking over to him, and grabbing his arm, pulling him out of the room.

"Are you out of your senses?" he questioned angrily, as she dragged him down the hall.

"I was about to ask you the same question," she replied coolly. "Your sister didn't do anything. She was worried about you, and you bite her head off! She probably thinks you hate her!" she cried angrily.

"Gigi is my sister. I love her," he replied pointedly.

"You're behaving like a spoilt child. I know you're angry with me, but don't take it out on other people," she ordered. "I don't _want_ to go get myself killed. I don't _want_ to cause you pain. But I also don't want to be responsible for harm to innocent people! We have to do what's _right_!" she cried, exasperated.

"And you honestly think that throwing yourself into danger is going to make things any better? That you're being _noble_?" he spat questioningly. "Well it's not. It's trying to clear your own conscience. So you can cut the crap, because you aren't going anywhere," he finished curtly. "Now. Are we done?"

"In ever sense of the word."

"Good. Can we return to breakfast, or are you going to throw yourself in front of a train now?" he asked curtly.

"I'm tired."

"I can see if Mrs Reynolds has prepared the guest room for you, if you wish."

"I _wish_ to go to sleep in _my_ bed, in _my_ room, in _my_ flat."

"That isn't an option."

"Oh goodie, I have 'options' now?" she questioned doubtfully.

"Yes. You can either wait for Mrs Reynolds to fix up your room, or sleep in my bed," he informed her stiffly. "If you really are tired, I would advise the latter."

"I'd rather walk home from here."

"It's flattering to think that you find the prospect of taking up my bed so repulsive," he said coolly, disguising his hurt.

"It's repulsive that you think I'd find the prospect flattering."

"I wasn't handing you an invitation."

"Since when have you ever _invited_ me to do anything? When you want something, Darcy, you demand it. You're so selfish – not everyone has to bow down to you!" she cried angrily.

"I see. So this is your opinion of me?" he questioned coolly.

"I'm not saying that you're a bad person."

"No, you're only suggesting that I would demand you sleep with me, that I would treat you like a common whore!" he cried angrily, stepping back, his face twisted into one of extreme distaste. "_Is this your opinion of me_?" he repeated, his voice loud and thunderous. Loli stood firm and tall, even though she was wincing and hiding on the inside.

"What was your objective by sending me expensive lingerie, then?" she questioned coolly.

"Obviously to convince you to jump me in the elevator," he spat sarcastically. "I told you – I didn't send that! Gigi did!" he snapped.

"Why should I believe you?" she asked pointedly, crossing her arms.

"Because I have _never_ lied to you," he hissed, glaring fiercely at her. "Now tell me the truth, Lolita," he demanded. "Do you think that I would order you to sleep with me? Do you think me capable of raping the woman that I love?" he questioned sharply, taking a step towards her.

Loli said nothing. To be perfectly honest, she didn't know. She didn't meet his eyes, merely stared at the carpet, wringing her hands. She heard Darcy swallow, and speak in a strained voice.

"H - how long have you felt this way?" he asked her quietly, trying to hide the emotion of extreme pain from his voice.

"I don't. I just needed a moment to think," she murmured, still not meeting his eyes. "You wouldn't. Emotionally, morally, ethically, you couldn't. Even physically."

"A moment? You needed a moment to question if I would rape you?" he responded incredulously. "You hesitated. One of the most important questions I'll ever ask you, and you _hesitated_," he spat. "I would never, ever, _ever_ do that to you. To anyone. It's horrible and despicable – I love you too much to cause you pain," he informed her, glaring fiercely. "Well, I can see why you're reluctant to come to my bed. You think I'd rape you if you didn't come willingly," he said coldly.

"And you expect me to come to it willingly whilst you behave like a child to everyone around you?" she questioned coolly. "I think it's best that we stay in our own beds, Mister Darcy," she said shortly.

"Well, I happen to disagree with that."

"Well unfortunately for you and the revolving door on your fly, that wasn't an option," she replied sharply, as he scowled.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he questioned with irritation.

"You heard me."

"You have _no_ idea what you're talking about."

"Probably not, but I haven't even agreed to stay, and you're can't even keep it in your pants!" she argued. "That says something about you, Darcy, and I don't know if it's true or not, but it's certainly an unfavourable indication," she snapped.

"I haven't slept with a woman for almost _three years_, Lolita. I don't know if you can claim that, but at least I wouldn't judge you for it," he said curtly.

"Well, I've never slept with a woman, so no, I certainly can't claim that," she replied coolly.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do. And it's something I'm not willing to discuss."

"Is there a reason for that?"

"Perhaps that we aren't dating, or even friends."

"That can change."

"And yet, from the looks of it, it won't."

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what again? Talking? Breathing? Feeling awkward because you've just revealed something deep and meaningful about your sex life?"

"Avoiding the topic by making childish jokes. Being immature means you don't have to have serious discussions."

"Then why are we even talking right now?"

"You did it again."

"Three words, Darcy. House. Of. Lies."

"And again."

"Seriously, just stop it now, it's getting dull."

"So why are you avoiding the topic?"

"Other than the fact that we have no semblance to a human relationship existing between us?"

"Is it because you're a virgin?"

"I don't remember putting that on my job application."

"Can you be serious for a moment? Is that why you want to avoid this topic?"

"No."

"Is that a 'no, that's not why I want to avoid this topic', or a 'no, I'm not a virgin'?"

"This is a 'no, I'm not interested in long-distance wireless broadband, so go away, travelling salesmen'."

"And you're doing it again."

"If you didn't get that, it was a 'no, I don't want to continue this discussion'."

"Was the travelling salesman some sort of metaphor?"

"Yes. For the corruption of modern day political systems and the conflict in the Middle East."

"And again! Can't you be serious for just one minute?"

"Can't we just change the topic?"

"If it's one you want to avoid so much, then no! I want to find out why you don't want to talk about this!"

"Because you're my _boss_!"

"So that means I don't have reproductive organs?"

"Exactly! You give them up the moment you get the promotion!"

"That's the biggest load of garbage I've ever heard anyone say."

"Well, I certainly don't want you to prove me wrong."

"Why?"

"…"

"Do you find me unattractive?"

"Ha!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"…"

"You _do_ find me attractive?"

"I have _eyes_, don't I?"

"So… yes?"

"Oh stop smirking; you won the genetic lottery, so what. You aren't _completely_ attractive, you have hideous…"

"What?"

"I'm thinking."

"If it helps, I find you very attractive."

"That doesn't help, so shutup."

"You have lovely eyes."

"Quiet, Ugly-Elbows."

"You don't like my elbows? What's wrong with them?"

"They bend too much."

"I like your hair."

"Thank you, Scotty Vanity."

"Was I supposed to get that?"

"If you were twenty years younger, perhaps."

"I like your skin."

"It rubs the lotion on its skin, or else it gets the hose again."

"And your neck."

"Go any lower and I'll tell your sister."

"I won't."

"Your eyes count."

"Since when?"

"Since now. Stop it."

"You have beautiful –"

"I _told_ you not to –"

"Arms."

"What kind of weirdo gets turned on by arms?"

"When they're attached to you?"

"Sick freak."

"Hardly."

"If we go back in there, are you going to grow up and stop treating people badly because you're angry at me?"

"Are you going to reconsider?"

"About what? Me leaving, or your bed?"

"Both."

"No."

Darcy gave an annoyed sigh, and ran a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave. It's stupid. Just wait," he ordered her quietly. "I'm sorry that I'm being a –"

"Sex pest?"

"I don't think we should sleep together either. I want to, but we shouldn't. The topic just came up, and we needed to talk about it."

"Thank _God_ you're seeing sense."

"You don't honestly think that I'd rape you, do you?"

"No. I don't."

"Do you trust me?"

"Possibly."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I might trust you, but I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I told you. I'm not a people person."

"Neither am I. We can stay here for the rest of our lives, and never see anyone else in the world."

"I can't stay here, Darcy," she replied, shrugging lightly.

"No, you're going to be selfish and leave," he spat curtly.

"How is it being selfish?" she questioned, taking a step forwards, and frowning.

"For a minute, think of me. Just a minute, Lolita," he begged. She turned her head away.

"And why don't _you_ think of _me_?" she questioned quietly. "You've been complaining about how this is going to effect _you_, but you don't even listen to me when I speak. Instead you start talking about sex and beds and rape, _anything_ to avoid the topic, _anything_ to spare yourself the guilt of watching me walk out that door," she continued. "If you love someone, aren't you supposed to let them go?" she questioned, glancing back up at him.

"That's absolute crap. If you love someone you hold on, and never, _ever_ let them go," he replied severely. "That's why I'm not letting you leave."

"I'll stay for breakfast. Then I'm calling Clarkson. I'll tell you if I'm staying after I speak with him," she decided finally. Darcy breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm still angry with you, but that's an improvement," he admitted. "And… just in case you do – well, my… my room is upstairs, to the end on the right," he informed her.

"I won't change my mind."

"I know, but… just in case you don't use your mind for a minute," he shrugged. "My door is always open. If you want to talk, or just sit with me for a little while, I'm there. No matter what you want to say, or do, it's always open," he informed her quietly.

"Don't wait up. I didn't come here for a relationship with you, and I certainly didn't come here to be propositioned."

He gave her one last defeated glance.

"What did you think was going to happen when you came here?" he asked her suddenly.

"I… I thought that we'd clear the air. Have a chance to move on," she answered coolly.

"Move on?" he questioned. "Lolita, there _is_ no moving on. The appeal is in two weeks. When he realises that there's no hope for him getting custody of Callum, he'll leave us alone, and we can be together," he said.

"Two weeks is enough time for him to hurt a lot of people, Darcy," she said quietly.

"Not this again. No. _NO_. I'm not letting you risk your life!" he snapped angrily.

"Darcy, I was born with a blood disorder that could eventually kill me, given the right amount of trauma. Don't you think that if I was meant to live for a hundred years, I would have been born without it?" she questioned softly.

He said nothing for a long while.

"If you're that desperate to get away from me, try telling that to every single person in the world born with a life threatening disease that's lived through it," he said steadily. "And then feed me this _crap_ again, and see if I think it's a decent fucking excuse!" he cried angrily, turning heel, and storming down the hall. She vaguely heard a door slam.

She stared at the place where he had been standing for a long time.

She took her phone out of the pocket of her jeans, and dialled Clarkson's number, walking through the hall to the front entrance, and slipping outside.

"I was wondering when you were going to call me," she heard a familiar voice say.

"Talk to me Clarkson, just tell me what's going on," she said tiredly.

"At seven o'clock this morning, a car bomb went off approximately ten metres away from your apartment building. There were a few injuries, and the street looks like a war zone. The coffee cart where you normally get your breakfast every day was destroyed, but the owner had insurance up to the hilt. Everything is being taken care of," he informed her.

"Do they know that I'm alive?" she asked, after a pause.

"Well no one's seen you, and by the state of the street, anything could have happened to you. They suspect it, but no one's confirmed anything. The media think it's all a conspiracy, your face is all over the news, everyone thinks that Clarity Bingley's doll is dead," he explained. "We've contacted all your family and close friends. We've sent messages to your father, and to the embassies of all of the countries we think he's been seen in, but we can't be sure that he knows yet," he continued.

"And what happens now?" she asked, taking a deep breath.

"We think that we should keep this going as long as we can. Wickham probably thinks you're dead. At the moment, lying low at Pemberley is the best option we have on the table," he replied.

"Clarkson, if I go back to London, and make it perfectly clear that Darcy and I have no connections, and we ditch the security, making everything look like Darcy doesn't give a damn if I live or die, what do you think my chances are?" she asked steadily.

"Slim to nothing. You'll almost certainly die."

"But no one else would get hurt."

"Well… I guess not."

"Can we arrange it?"

"Miss Gardiner, you'll die."

"Clarkson, have people been killed whilst Wickham was trying to get to me?"

"I'm not allowed to answer that question."

"Would you tell me if they had?"

"I'm not allowed to answer that question."

"Would you tell me if they hadn't, if it meant clearing my conscience?"

"I'm not allowed to answer that question."

"This is a recipe for disaster."

"I'm not going to assist in your own suicide, Miss Gardiner. I'm paid by Darcy, I take his orders. And I know for a fact that he would rather kill himself than see you hurt," Clarkson stated simply. "Stay at Pemberley. We'll do our best."

"I really hate you, Clarkson."

"Comes with the territory."

She sighed as he hung up. She stated at her phone for a few minutes, wondering what she should do.

She rose to her feet, and turned back towards the house.

She would wait.

**A/N: Okay, so it wasn't socks. Lolz…. You probably all walked into that chapter expecting socks, and receiving nothing. Haha, I laugh at you. Yeah, but I think the talk they had was important, because Darcy has been established as demanding and dangerous, but I didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea. Then I wondered, what if LOLITA got the wrong idea? My characters are like people to me, so I didn't want to make them wonder. Oh, yeah, and Darcy sounds like a sex-pest in this. He's not really; I just thought that the air needed to be cleared. So that's the closest thing (other than violence) that is going to make this story worthy of the T rating, because I am NOT writing yucky stuff. Boys have cooties. Kissing I can write, kissing I can deal with (plus the fact that I'm sixteen. I'm not writing naughty stuff.). The rest of it? Nup, sorry guys :S Yes, so just warning you ahead. This is a good, wholesome little (despite the violence and swear words) story :D Haha, not really, I used a naughty word in here /^**o**^\**


	35. A Beautiful Friendship

**A/N: Sorry that it took so long to update! I've had English essays and art papers and history assignments to do, but this is a decent sized chapter, so I hope you don't get out your poking sticks :D**

Darcy slammed the door behind him loudly, and let out a frustrated cry of anger.

He knew that she was thinking of those innocent people that had been hurt, but _dammit_, things would be so much easier if she didn't have such a strong conscience. Be began to pace angrily, running their conversations through his mind.

He could understand her concern. Innocent people had been hurt. Perhaps he was blinded by his feelings for her – but he simply couldn't agree to her plan, it was noble and self-sacrificing, but the cost was simply too high. So what could he do? She would leave if she really wanted to; he couldn't stop her, no matter how hard he tried. What were his options?

He sighed angrily. He didn't really have options. He needed to keep her close. He winced in realisation of what he had said – he had invited her into his bed, and she had said no. But why? It wasn't because she didn't find him attractive – he had never determined her reasons. Did she really not like him? Her kisses would suggest otherwise, but how could he be sure?

He let out a frustrated growl. Why had she even come if she didn't want to be with him?

He sat behind his desk, his mind spinning. He needed to make arrangements.

**From: **F_

**To: **R_

**Subject: **Recent developments.

_Tell P when L is discovered alive that she is on vacation in a remote resort. Be sketchy with details. _

_Needed from apartment: _

_Clothing. Located in large wardrobe in bedroom. Bring enough to last several weeks. Bring shoes and pyjamas too. Use your common sense. Linger in her underwear drawer, and I kill you._

_Large wooden chest with metal plate on lid. Do not open. From Humbert. _

_Porcelain doll. She might have thrown it out._

_Laptop, and all attachments for it. Also ipod and phone charger. _

_Medication. Needed as soon as possible. Should be in cupboard above sink. Bring everything. _

_Makeup and all of that girly stuff. Probably in bathroom. Brushes, curling irons, all of that nonsense. Possibly shampoo. Are women picky on the shampoo they use? Possibly feminine products. I don't really know. You can buy them anywhere, right?_

_Any soft toys which look particularly well loved. I suspect she sleeps with a small toy panda. _

_Art materials. Possibly in room with piano. Bring whatever you can find._

_Any photos that she might want to keep with her._

_Purses and scarfs and such. _

_Richard suspects she has a collection of My Little Ponys. If you see any, take a photo._

_Pick up anything else you think she might need or want._

_FD._

He clicked send, and stepped back from the desk, releasing a deep sigh.

It was real. She was really going to be staying in Pemberley; she was really going to be _here_, with _him_. He rose to his feet, and headed to the door leading out of the study. He stepped into the hall, determined to find her. They still needed to talk. He headed back to the breakfast room, assuming that she had returned there. He heard soft voices of conversation, and stopped outside of the door, listening.

"He's gorgeous, really," he heard Lolita say warmly.

"Thank you. He's my life," Gigi replied.

"My mother and stepfather have a little baby, well, she's a toddler now, but she was his size once. It's really amazing, they're so tiny, you know?" Lolita raved.

"Whit could hold him in almost one hand when he was first born. He was there for me right through the birth, I couldn't believe how tiny he was at first," Gigi said dreamily. Darcy smiled as he leant against the door. It had been amazing to be with his sister whilst his nephew was born, and when he _did_ finally come into the world, he was so very tiny. The doctors assured them that he was a good size for a newborn, but it was just incredible how tiny he really was.

"Really? Wow, my brothers are sweet and everything, but they don't even know where babies come from. Ezekiel seems pretty curious about it, I think he has a girlfriend, even though he's barely six years old," Lolita laughed in response.

"Whit's probably more than a brother to me, he's like a father, really," his sister said warmly. Darcy smiled. "And he's just been so great with Callum, they get along so well together," she continued.

"He sounds like he's a good brother," Lolita commented.

"Oh he is, really he is. He's the best brother anyone could ever have. He'd do anything for Callum and I," she gushed. Darcy couldn't help but smile again.

"He told me a little about you. He seems very proud to be your brother, you know," Lolita informed her.

"I'm proud to be his sister. He's such a wonderful man. I mean, he's always looking out for other people, never hurting anyone's feelings, and he hardly ever gets angry, he's so considerate. He loves his job, too, he's always had such a strong love of art, and he's an amazing artist himself, he just never shows it. Mostly he sculpts, but he's got a lot of paintings and drawings that are just amazing, and he's an _excellent_ photographer," she gushed.

"Is he easy to live with?"

"Oh yes, very. He's so lovely."

"Really? I – I guess I just don't know him that well, I suppose," Lolita muttered. Darcy frowned, and tried to get closer to the door. He wanted to hear.

"The only thing is that he seems quite lonely. I keep on telling him to date, but he's been a bit of a recluse recently," she said, trying to sound subtle. He rolled his eyes at that, Gigi was _never_ subtle.

"Yes, he said something about it being three years or something since he… last had a serious relationship," she replied awkwardly.

"I don't really think he's _ever_ had a serious relationship. When he was younger he dated quite a lot, but he never really liked the women he met, and he always broke it off quite quickly. I suppose the closest thing to a serious relationship was Magy, but they were only going out three months before it ended," she explained.

"Yes, I suppose it takes a little while to get to… understand him," Lolita said quietly. Darcy frowned. Was that what it was? She didn't understand him?

"And what about you, if you don't mind me asking? Hows your love life?" Gigi asked curiously.

"Uh… I don't tend to do well in the relationships department. I frighten men away more than I attract them," Lolita explained awkwardly. Darcy gave a sign of relief. He personally thought that was rubbish, she could have any man she wanted, but he was glad that she didn't sound too interested, or too experienced. _He_ wanted to be the only man in her life.

"Really? But you're so pretty!" Gigi exclaimed. '_I quite agree_', Darcy thought to himself.

"You haven't seen how I normally dress – or, well, it _used_ to be normal, now it's more… occasional. But it's a bit full on. I do it for fun mostly, people's reactions are always amusing, but it's not exactly a man magnet," she replied.

"Have you ever had a serious relationship though?" Gigi asked. Darcy's heart froze in his chest as he waited for her answer.

"I – uh – well, there was something that was close to it, for a little while. But it didn't work out," she explained.

He adjusted his standing to listen at the hinges, where he could get more sound. What was she talking about? Who was this man she had a relationship with?

"Do you mind me asking about it? Sorry – I'm so nosy, it's just that… I'm really curious," Gigi said timidly. Darcy wanted to give her nosiness a hug.

"Okay, but it's going to destroy any respect you have for me," Lolita warned.

"I think you'll be surprised."

"Well… there isn't much to say. It's very complicated. I was with someone I wasn't supposed to be with, and as a result, a lot of people were very hurt," she explained slowly.

Darcy froze. What was she talking about? Had someone hurt her?

"That doesn't sound bad at all!"

"It was. If you knew the full circumstances, you would understand."

"Oh."

Darcy wanted to punch something. Some_one_. He wanted to find this – whoever he was, and rip him apart.

"Did you love him?"

"Love? No. I don't think so. I don't really – well, as your brother keeps on reminding me, I'm young. I don't think I've ever really… well, love is something that takes a long time for you to understand. We might have been good friends, once, but I doubt we could ever meet again on favourable territory. I feel guilty for what I did to him though."

A sigh of relief on the outside of the door. She didn't love him. That was good.

"It's not so bad, I've heard… experienced, worse," Gigi muttered quietly.

"We all make mistakes."

"No, not everyone. Not Whit. I always feel like I've disappointed him, because he's so perfect all the time, and I'm never perfect," she sighed. Darcy wanted to rush in there and tell her that he loved her, and that wasn't true, that he would never be disappointed in her.

"Can I call you Gigi?" Lolita asked carefully.

"Of course you can! Only if I can call you Lolita, I feel like we're friends already," Gigi replied cheerfully.

He smiled. It was good that they were getting along so well.

"You see, the thing is, your brother is… a very good man. Probably one of the best men I know," she confessed. Darcy felt his heart soar inside his chest. "He's quiet, and reserved, and has a lot of issues expressing his feelings, so they bottle up inside, and come out all at once, sometimes in different ways. He could be really upset and depressed about something, and he gets furious at the smallest thing, releasing everything on anyone that's around," she explained. Darcy frowned, but listened.

"You know him very well already."

"He's also extremely passionate. He doesn't do things by halves. He can't love you a little bit, and be disappointed in you. He loves you more than you can understand, and I don't think he could _ever_ be disappointed in you. He's told me a bit about you, and he sounded… so _proud_, and so in awe of you, like he… looks up to you, like you're his inspiration. He's never going to stop loving you. And even though he seems so amazing, he's not perfect. Not at all," she continued. Darcy frowned. It was true, Gigi was everything to him, but he wanted to hear what she thought were his imperfections.

"He is. He's always doing the right thing, never thinking of himself, only other people."

"You're compelled to think that. But the truth is, brothers aren't perfect, no one is perfect, and thinking of someone as perfect is only going to disappoint you in the end."

"He loves you very much, you know. I can tell."

_That's the understatement of the century._

"Not as much as he loves you and Callum. And that's the way it should be."

"He's a good man."

"He's a very good man. Not perfect, however. But I don't like perfect people," Lolita replied. Darcy had a warm feeling in his heart. From what he could tell, she didn't hate him at all.

"Callum is perfect," Gigi pointed out proudly.

"Indeed he is," Lolita agreed. Darcy felt himself thinking the affirmative in his own mind, Callum _was_ perfect.

"I suppose all mothers say that about their babies," Gigi sighed happily.

"It doesn't make it any less true, though."

"Whit loves children. We… never had a big family, I think he would have liked to have lots of siblings. I know that he wants to have lots of children."

Darcy smiled quietly to himself. He _would_ like to have children. As many as possible.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting a family."

"Do you?" Gigi asked curiously. Lolita didn't answer for a few moments, Darcy anxiously waiting for her response.

"Well, I have two brothers, six sisters, two mothers and two fathers. I'm pretty set for family," she replied, avoiding the question's true meaning.

"I mean children," Gigi stated.

"I… don't know," Lolita admitted finally. Darcy frowned. She didn't _know_? How could she not know something like that! "It'd be dangerous for me to get pregnant. I have a blood clotting disorder. My doctor said that if I were interested in starting a family, I'd have to go on a series of medications and platelet transfusions. I already have enough pills… which I haven't taken this morning. Dammit. That could be bad."

His heart sunk. How could he be so selfish?

"But do you _want_ children?" Gigi questioned.

"Honestly? I don't know. I like having this sort of freedom. I'm not really… well, let's just say that there are other people in the world, better equipped to look after children," she explained.

"Whit really wants to have a baby. He loves Callum to pieces," Gigi informed her.

"I don't think your brother is in the best position to have a child. Unless he _does_ have a uterus, does he keep that in a box somewhere?" she joked in playful response.

"He'd make a wonderful father."

"He would," she agreed.

"I think you'd be a good mother," Gigi set slyly.

"I doubt it."

"Have you and Whit talked about it? Having kids, I mean," she questioned nervously, with a certain amount of hope. Darcy wanted to chuckle. She had always wanted to be an Aunt _and_ mother.

"No. We – well, it's a funny sort of relationship. More like a non-relationship," Lolita explained.

"You two looked pretty friendly this morning."

"Your brother is ridiculously attractive, what can I say," Lolita laughed. Darcy felt a tinge rise to his cheeks.

"Hey, that's my brother! You can't say things like that!" Gigi giggled in response.

"Not that I want to encourage incest, but he _is_ gorgeous. Seriously. Face of God kind of thing," she stated.

"Ewww… he's my brother!"

"And he's one hell of a kisser too, might I add," she teased. Darcy smirked. He _knew_ she found him attractive.

"Gross."

"Not if you're unrelated to him, which, thank _God_, I am," she responded cheerfully.

"I can't believe you're telling me this."

"What? That your brother is gorgeous, and a Grade-A snogger?" Lolita questioned.

"Yes. Precisely that," Gigi replied, her tone sounding like she was more than slightly horrified.

"Oh. Well, I shan't say it again then."

"It would be appreciated."

"Does he own a pair of tight jeans?" Lolita questioned curiously.

"I hope not," Gigi retorted.

"I hope he does."

"Are you doing this just to tease me?" Gigi questioned, clearly astonished.

"Partially. Partially to tease you, and partially because despite what you think, being his sister and everything, but that man is _built_."

"God, I'm never going to be able to erase this conversation from my mind!" Gigi giggled in response.

"I have that effect on people," Lolita boasted.

"So you're staying a little while?"

"Uh… I haven't been given a choice. But it'll give me a good chance to get to know you, I think we could be good friends, Gigi," she added cheerfully.

"I'd really like that, Lolita. Most of my friends… well, if you could call them friends…" Gigi veered off. Darcy _wished_ that she had more friends her own age, but she wasn't terribly sociable, something they had in common.

"I understand perfectly. All of my friends are in different countries. Everyone else just seems to be an acquaintance," Lolita replied.

"Do you miss Tokyo?" Gigi asked, after a short pause. It was a sudden question, her tone suggesting that she had been thinking about it before, but had difficulty bringing it up.

"Yes. Quite a lot," she admitted.

"Would you go back, if you could?"

"What? And leave my new friend in England? Not a chance," she responded.

He smiled. That was very typical of her.

"I can see why he loves you so much," Gigi informed her warmly.

"Good. Because I certainly can't," she responded.

"Spend some time with him. Get to know him better," Gigi suggested.

Lolita sighed.

"Gigi, can I use a really cliché line right now?" she requested.

"Just as long as it isn't a Terminator style way of announcing that you need to use the bathroom," she warned severely.

"Drat. No, actually, it was that one about 'this being the start of a beautiful friendship'."

"Was that Gone with the Wind?"

"Possibly. It might have been Casablanca."

"It wasn't Roman Holiday."

"I _wish_! Gregory Peck is _gorgeous_."

"Could it have been Gilda?"

"Rita Hayworth, right?"

"Not sure. We should watch every pre-1965 movie in the house just to be sure."

"Good. We'll start with Roman Holiday, then High Noon, To Kill a Mockingbird, and end in Moby Dick."

"We aren't only watching Gregory Peck films."

"What's that Callum? You think Gregory Peck is sexy? Well, I concur!"

"Gregory Peck is dead now, isn't he? And about a hundred years old?"

"Yes. Sadly."

"So you love a dead guy."

"A _sexy_ dead guy."

"Still, he's a corpse."

"A _sexy_ corpse."

"That's just… weird. Necrophilia."

"_Sexy_ necrophilia."

"I _want_ to be frightened, but it's just too funny," Gigi said, fighting giggles.

"Yes, they all say that," Lolita replied confidently. "Listen, we should _definitely_ have a movie marathon, but I need to call someone. If I'm staying here, I'll need my pills," she announced, before Darcy was met with the sound of her chair moving across the floor.

He realised that he was in a rather unfortunate position – she was about to leave the dining room, and he had his ear pressed against the door. He quickly stepped back, towards his study, just opening the door as she stepped into the hall.

He glanced over at her. She met his eyes with a questioning expression, and then she frowned slightly. So she knew that he had listened.

He tore his gaze away from her, and stepped into his study. He closed the door, and leant against the hard surface, sliding to the floor.

Did he really know her at all?

~ * ~

She wanted to be angry with him, but no matter how hard she tried, she simply could not find anymore bitterness or rage. She was tired. She was so desperately, horribly tired.

She wandered through the hallway, searching for somewhere quiet to make a phone call. She stepped into a very ornate and beautifully decorated sitting room – with the simple purpose of sitting down in it, and curled up on a large armchair close to the hearth, pulling out her mobile.

She scowled. It was flat. So her only choice was to ask Darcy to call him for her, because she _needed_ her medication, or else her nose would start to drip blood, and she would pass out. But she was so desperately _tired_. Not just physically, but the events of the last few months had been so exhausting for her.

She didn't even know how he had shaken up her life in such a short period of time. It was almost incomprehensible; things were so different now, because of _him_. And even though she had certainly been happier before they met, she strangely didn't regret it.

She sighed, settling back into the armchair comfortably. Pemberley was beautiful; there was no other way of explaining it. She felt so at home there, like she really _belonged_ to the place, there was some sort of cosmic pull that wanted to keep her there. She took a deep breath, inhaling the air, because it seemed so different to the smog of Tokyo and London, it was much clearer.

As she brushed a strand of hair from her face, her eyes caught a glance at her wrist, there were purple bruises appearing already from where Darcy had grabbed her arm, trying to stop her from leaving. She couldn't let him see them; he would instantly blame himself and shrink away; making her time at Pemberley even more awkward than it was already promising to be. He hadn't even gripped her wrist too strongly; she was just so ridiculously sensitive to pressure that she would turn purple at the slightest touch.

She chuckled softly to herself at the irony. She had always been over sensitive, and not just to touch. She had behaved so irrationally towards Darcy, not just because he appeared to be a prick, but because he had insulted her. He had bruised her.

The sight of her purpling arm reminded her that she needed to get her medication, she had already gone almost twenty-four hours without it, and she was supposed to take them every twelve. Chances were that even if she called Clarkson at that very minute, she wouldn't get them until the next morning, so the sooner the better. She rose to her feet, stretched, yawned, and slipped out of the sitting room.

She wondered if she could track down Gigi or Mrs Reynolds and ask to use the phone, but before she had a chance to do a thorough search of the premises, the door to the study opened, and the very man that had been inhabiting her thoughts mere moments ago was standing before her.

"Lolita," he said, his tone heavy, and cold. So he was still angry with her.

"Whit," she replied patiently, trying not to give into her usual instinct to shoot him some biting retort. "I need to use your phone. The battery on mine just died, and I need to make some calls," she informed him.

"I've already had Clarkson contact your friends and family. He thinks it's best that you don't speak to anyone directly for the time being. Your mother, stepfather, and siblings have decided to postpone their visit for a few days at least," he replied.

"Oh," she muttered quietly. She had really been looking forward to seeing her family again. She tried not to look hurt. "And I suppose there's no chance of me going back to Paris?" she asked hopefully. His eyes flashed darkly.

"No. Not at the moment," he answered, folding his arms, and staring down at herm as if waiting for her to say something significant. To apologise.

"Well – that's not all, I – you see, I have to take medication every twelve hours," she explained awkwardly, wringing her hands and avoiding his eyes, not sure why she felt so guilty and uncomfortable. "I – if I don't, I get really faint, and sometimes I pass out, and my nose starts to bleed, and if I don't take them in two days blood comes out of my ears, and then my eyes after about four, it's not fun," she continued, biting her lip.

"I see. I've already given Clarkson a list of things he needs to get from your apartment, and I told him about the medication. He should be here late this afternoon, early tomorrow morning, at the latest," he informed her. "Is there anything you can do until they get here?" he asked.

"Not really. I have almost no platelets and my body rejects natural sources of iron – the pills are the only thing that work," she shrugged.

"You look tired," he stated, taking in her pale skin and the reddish-purple bags she knew were hiding under her eyes. He frowned in concern, and made a move that seemed like the beginnings of a comforting gesture, before he thought better of it, and pulled away, keeping a safe distance between them.

"That's just because I didn't sleep last night," she replied cheekily. He didn't seem amused, only frowned even more.

"The best thing you can do until you have your medication is to sleep," he said. "Mrs Reynolds has made up a room for you. You can get some rest. Then we need to talk," he stated.

His words hung heavy in the air.

"I – I'm being selfish. I couldn't live if I hurt someone else," she admitted quietly. "But you have to understand, that I really don't want to stay here, not whilst everything is so confused, I just can't do it," she explained steadily.

"Not just about that," he replied. He met her eyes with great gravity, as something unsaid passed between them. Loli nodded.

"Okay," she murmured, tearing her eyes away from his, staring at her shoes uncomfortably.

"Your room is this way," he informed her, gesturing through to the entrance hall. She followed him out silently, before they headed up the ridiculously large grand staircase. Neither of them said anything, waiting for the other to begin conversation first. He led her up to a long hallway, with several doors, all closed. She felt like she was on a game show as they walked down the right, wondering what was behind each mystery door. She counted doors, stopping when she got up to ten, because it was just depressing.

He opened a door for her, and gestured that she walk in. She stepped into the threshold, her eyes wide with disbelief. She felt like she was in some sort of glorious pre-French Revolution museum display. There was an absolutely giant King sized four poster bed, with a blue and rose gold silk cover, wide windows with white lace curtains fluttering around a padded window seat, the walls covered with silk screens of the same shades and patterns as the doona, the floors were highly polished hardwood, and there was even a fireplace large enough that she could probably stand in it with no concern.

"There bathroom is through that door, that's the dressing room, and through that is your sitting room," he informed her, gesturing the doors surrounding the room. Loli's eyes widened in surprise.

"Why do you need all of those rooms?" she questioned incredulously.

"This is the way the house was built. It's about two hundred and fifty years old, houses were just built like that," he replied simply.

"Is your room this big?" she asked, still gazing around in wonder, running her hands over the soft silk on the chaise lounges by the hearth.

"Bigger. It's meant for two people," he answered. "Do you need anything?"

"I think I'll be alright for now," she replied, glancing over at him. He looked uncomfortable. She stepped towards him in silence, and tried to catch his eye. "Are you still angry at me?" she questioned.

"Yes," he said honestly, turning to face her.

"You know, ultimately, it _is_ my decision," she pointed out. He nodded, frowning slightly, as if he didn't like her reasoning.

"I understand. But I'm still angry at you. And if you continue acting this way, I'm not going to stop being angry with you," he informed her.

"Yeah, I got that memo," she replied. "Well… I'm tired, so I guess I'd…" she trailed off, glancing to the bed.

"Oh, yes," he murmured.

"Thanks for everything," she added, even though she wasn't that sure why she was thanking him for imprisoning her.

"My pleasure," he replied. Loli gave a tiny, somewhat forced smile, and turned back towards the bed. "And you aren't even going to kiss me?" he questioned. She turned, and rolled her eyes.

"We aren't dating," she reminded him.

"We're living together," he countered.

"Only by force!"

"That's just a technicality!" he responded.

"If we were living together, we'd be in the same bedroom, but we're not, so the whole kissing thing is ignored," she informed him.

"My bedroom is a few doors down, we can share it," he offered hopefully. She sent him a firm glare, and he frowned, knowing he was defeated.

"Besides, you're still angry at me," she added.

"That doesn't mean that I don't want to kiss you," he pointed out.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Fine then."

"Really?"

"No," he replied, before quickly leaning forwards and capturing her lips. She had no other option than to kiss him back.

They parted after a few moments, breathing heavily, hands either tangled in hair, pulling on shirts or wrapped around waists.

"Now go away," she ordered him, stepping backwards. He let out a disappointed scoff, and scowled.

"It's my house," he defended, crossing his arms, not moving from the place he stood.

"And it's _my_ prison cell," she countered, mimicking his stance. He rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I'll see you in a few hours," he said, making a move to step forwards and kiss her again, but she took a step back.

"Nope. Go away," she demanded firmly. He scowled, turned, and left the room.

Loli sighed as she fell back onto the large bed.

And so day one had begun.

**A/N: I've got a new poll up on my author's page for my next story. I haven't really started writing any of them, but I have ideas on how I want them to turn out. I'll give you a little overview here of what the stories are about, and I'd appreciate if you could give them a look over and pick which one you like :D**

**EMILIA: A modern 'Emma' fic, revolving mainly around Emilia, rich, gorgeous, clever, talented, and very charming. She has everything that she seems to want, friends, family, and the ability to match make. Powered by her success with her friend Taylor and her fiancée Jay Weston, she decides to make it her mission in life to make life for everyone in the world beautiful. She becomes so involved with helping others, that she doesn't even realise that she's destroying herself in the process, until she's at the point in her life where she's so obsessed with beauty in the world that she's almost killing herself with low self-esteem and good intentions. Only Knightly, her old friend, and maybe lover, can see what she's doing to herself. But when you get that far into a life of obsession, can you ever get out? And in one piece?**

**THE EDEN: Elizabeth Bennet isn't really fussed about stuffy suits and briefcases, she doesn't want a life of high-flying careers in a glass-ceiling kind of world, she's perfectly happy to bake in The Eden, the best sweet shop in London, and attend college part-time. She knows where her life is going; she knows what she's doing, so why shouldn't she be happy? Well, when William Darcy, an obsessive-compulsive billionaire business man walks into her shop, she has something to be concerned about. Because there's something about him that lingers more than the scent from the bottle of disinfectant he keeps in his jacket pocket at all times. And suddenly, her wonderfully uncomplicated life is decidedly complicated, and what was once her Eden, is now completely upside down. **

**MY LITTLE FIREFLY: I'm not like other people. I don't think like them. There's nothing wrong with me – I'm a poet. A traveller. A philosopher. I write my secrets on scraps of paper and press them into his hands, because I don't want the fireflies to take them away from me. They glow brightly in the dark of the night, drawing your nearer and nearer, until you trust them completely, and tell them everything. He calls me his little firefly. I can't forgive him for that. I can love him – but I will never, **_**never**_** forgive him. (Warning, deeply abstract, conceptual and symbolic. A **_**very**_** different twist on Pride and Prejudice, using the lyrics of Bob Dylan and other artists.)**

**A FINE FRENZY: Eli didn't want to move to England. Why should she? It's constantly raining – and freezing even in the summer. So what if she was attending the best school in the country for gifted and talented students, did that matter? She wasn't even gifted, or at least, not in her view. But just when she thinks she might be able to handle England, everything changes. Her mother becomes friends with Catherine du Burg. And before she knew it, Eli, sixteen years old, was under pressure from everyone around her to marry the King of Jerks, **_**Darcy**_**. Well, she's certainly not going to stand for that. She'd rather eat that fancy violin of his than marry him. **

**RED GLOVES AND PORCELAIN DOLLS: He was eleven when he was first given Elizabeth. She was beautiful, white skin, pink cheeks, red lips, chocolate curls, she was all that was beauty – if only she were real. You can't love a doll. But years after his precious Elizabeth was destroyed by his grief-struck father, Will meets her again, only this time, she's not made of porcelain, and she's certainly not as fragile as it. Will wants his doll back. But guess what? **_**This**_** Elizabeth is **_**no one's**_** doll. And she doesn't take kindly to being treated like one. **

**So please pick the one you like, and I'll start working on it when I have time :D I may think of something new before then, which is quite likely, but for the time being, these are your choices :D Oh, and the themes are as such:**

**Emilia: Fashion**

**The Eden: Cooking (among other things)**

**My Little Firefly: Literature, poetry, films, and classical aspects of Western culture. Also a lot of symbolism and some philosophy, not to mention investigations into social perceptions of mental disorders. **

**A Fine Frenzy: Music**

**Red Gloves and Porcelain Dolls: A mixture of a lot of themes, at the moment art, fashion and music, but it's mostly plot. **

**Please offer any other ideas you have, I'd love to hear them :D And don't forget to review :D**


	36. Of Hoodies and Conversation

**A/N: Sorry I didn't update last night, I had a history assignment to do :S But it's over now, and whilst I still have homework and exams coming up, I should be able to continue posting regularly. As an offering to make you forgive me for the extra 24 hour wait, this chapter is almost twice the normal size. Don't I just **_**love**_** you guys? **

It was mid afternoon when her eyelids fluttered open, white light tinted blue scattering over her skin through the lace curtains on the four poster bed, stretching luxuriously between silk sheets. She sighed, and couldn't help but think how easily she could get used to a life of extreme luxury. She raised a hand to her nose, and felt to see if it had started bleeding during her nap. Satisfied that it was fine, she sat up, brushing her hair back with her fingers, staring out the open window on the other side of the room through the gauzy curtains.

She involuntarily shivered, and ran her hands up and down her arms to generate warmth. She had opened it to get some of the fresh country air into the room, but now the entire room was freezing. She slid out of the large bed, and scampered over to the window, shutting it quickly. She glanced around until she spotted her jeans, which she had taken off to go to sleep, and pulled them on.

Curiously, she decided to try one of the several doors in the room, determined to uncover some sort of secret passageway or mysterious hidden door. She pushed open one of the doors, and stepped inside.

It was simply gorgeous. Not overly large, it reminded her of some of the rooms in the latest Marie Antoinette movie, but then again, so did the whole house. It a was well sized room, blue with rose gold gilding everywhere, it had the same silk covered walls, hardwood floors, white and blue lace curtains and chaise lounges, but it also seemed quite sweet, quaint and peaceful. There were several bookshelves, an old fashioned writing desk, a fireplace and another window seat overlooking the endless fields of vibrant green grass, everything looked so well placed and comfortable. She could picture herself spending years in that room, simply relaxing.

She didn't spend long in there. She had a look in the luxurious bathroom and the walk-in wardrobe about the size of her apartment building, before she slipped out of the bedroom quietly.

"I was just about to wake you up," she heard a voice say, the moment that she stepped into the hall. Darcy stood before her, changed into light grey linen trousers and a collarless black long sleaved shirt under a forest green sweater, his hair brushed, but he hadn't shaved the stubble growing over his jaw and cheeks.

"You didn't shave," she stated, tracing his jaw line with her eyes. His hand unconsciously went to his cheek, and he frowned slightly.

"Did you want me to?" he asked her with concern, but she shook her head.

"No, I kind of like it," she replied, shrugging, taking a step forwards. She stared at him curiously, trying to decipher how he could be so… beautiful. She unconsciously raised her hand to run along his cheek softly. He let out a soft gasp, and his eye lids flicked to a close as he bent his head into her caress, as if it were all he desired. She pulled her hand away. "I'm sorry," she muttered quietly, avoiding his eyes.

"Don't – please, don't apologise," he begged gently, opening his eyes, and trying to meet hers.

"I shouldn't. I – I'm just sending you mixed messages. It's wrong," she said softly.

"Lolita," he said, commanding her attention. She looked up at him. "I like it when you touch me. Never apologise for that. No matter the circumstances, never say you're sorry for touching me," he requested. She swallowed nervously, and nodded. She wiped her eyes quickly, she didn't even know why she was feeling the need to cry, it was just everything that had happened in the past few hours was a lot to take in.

"Jeez, I'm a complete wreck," she laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with unspent tears. He put a hand on her cheek, and wiped one away with his thumb comfortingly.

"I don't mind," he smiled in return. She gave another laugh.

"You smiled!" she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with more than just tears. "You – you smiled! I've never seen you smile before!" she said, growing excited. Darcy's smile grew, and he too laughed quietly.

"No, I guess that you haven't," he realised. "There's a lot that you don't know about me, I guess," he added thoughtfully.

"You're very private," she pointed out, crossing her arms against her chest and rubbing them for warmth. It was chilly, even in the hall.

"Are you cold? Did you want me to put the heating on?" he asked her quickly, his smile turning to a quiet frown as he took in her goose bumped skin.

"Do you have a hoodie or something?" she asked. He opened his mouth to say something in response, but he merely looked surprised.

"Yes, but… I doubt it would fit you," he pointed out. "You're, well…" he began, trailing off, trying not to insult her.

"Tiny?" she offered helpfully. He gave a small chuckle.

"Uhh… petit," he corrected. "I'll get you a jumper, and we can talk. There are a few things we need to discuss," he decided, lightly placing a hand on her elbow, and pulling her down to the end of the hall.

"Is this your room?" she questioned curiously, as he gripped the doorknob.

"Yes. You don't have to come in if you don't want to, I'll only be a minute," he replied cautiously. She laughed.

"I've been in boy's rooms before, you know," she countered. He raised an eyebrow in a questioning, but not accusing manner.

"I certainly hope not," he responded. She merely rolled her eyes.

"You're like Edward Cullen," she scoffed.

"You _read_ those books?" he exclaimed in shock. She shrugged.

"No, actually. But Mya is addicted. I have a basic understanding so that I can tease her relentlessly about them," she informed him. "Edward Cullen, the hundred and something vampire guy that glitters or sparkles or does that whole 'Spirit Fingers' thing is a stalker. He watches the Mary-Sue sleep," she explained.

"It's calming."

"What?" she questioned, frowning slightly.

"It's calming. Watching someone you love sleep. It lets you know that they're real, that they're living, breathing, that they're safe. That they're yours forever," he explained, turning the doorknob and pushing it open, stepping into the room. Loli followed in silence, thinking over his words. But before she had time to contemplate their full depth, all thought was pushed from her mind.

The room was considerably larger than the one she inhabited, and considerably more masculine. It was decorated with a dark burgundy, beige and gold, the colour scheme setting things off wonderfully. Somehow, the room seemed to be quite cosy, despite its amazing size. There were embers smouldering in the fireplace, two large, terribly comfortable looking armchairs positioned around the hearth, books on almost every surface, a great deal of them about painting or drawing or sculpture, and instead of having a separate dressing room, he had a large wardrobe inbuilt to the wall. His bed was giant, once again with silk sheets, and made of the same rich, dark wood that the rest of his furniture was made with, Victorian and Art Nouveau designs embedded into the surface.

It suited him, she decided.

"It's a bit messy, I apologise," he said, riffling through a drawer.

"You've seen my apartment. This isn't messy. This is controlled," she stated, still looking around in wonder. "How _tall_ is your bed?" she exclaimed, stepping towards it. It was much higher from the ground than hers was; it was like something out of the Princess and the Pea story.

"I'm a tall person," he replied simply, pushing aside items of clothing, searching for something to offer her. She stood by the bed, which was about mid torso hight for her.

"How do you even get _up_ here? Isn't the air too thin for you?" she questioned, stepping back a few paces, before running at it, and jumping up at the last second. She gave a triumphant cry as she landed atop it, avoiding injury.

"Congratulations. Would you like me to tuck you in, or just read you a story?" he teased, tossing her a large grey Ralph Lauren hoodie. She scowled, and stuck her tongue out petulantly, sliding off the bed.

"You're far too mean for your own good, you know," she informed him, pulling the hoodie on. It fell to about mid thigh, and her arms had completely disappeared. Darcy tried to hide a laugh, but it wasn't particularly effective. "Oh shutup you, it's not _my_ fault you're ten feet tall," she snapped, trying to pull the sleaves down so she could find her hands.

"I wasn't insulting you," he defended. "You look adorable. You should keep the hoodie, it looks much better on you," he suggested, taking in her somewhat ridiculous appearance with a small smile.

"Everything looks better on me. That Rolex? That'd look better on me," she said cheekily, gesturing to his wrist.

"I already got you a watch, remember?" he responded, his smile growing slightly. "So _why_, if I bought you a beautiful diamond watch, are you wearing a plastic Tinkerbell one?" he questioned, examining the wrist that had appeared from under the folds of clothing.

"Target, seven pounds," she informed him proudly, holding it out with glee.

"I don't think I've ever seen you take this off," he commented, looking at the charm bracelet that was on the same wrist as her plastic watch.

"Hmm? Oh, no, I only take it off when I'm in the shower," she replied, jingling it happily. "Well, it's good that we had this discussion. It's been terribly enlightening. Do you have any secret passageways in here?" she asked curiously, glancing around.

"Uh, a few. They aren't so secret anymore, however. And this wasn't what I wanted to talk about," he replied, his tone becoming more serious.

"Damn. I was hoping I could get out of it," she said sheepishly. "So, your room or mine?" she asked.

"I really do hope you mean where we're going to have this discussion," he replied.

"No, where we're going to sing campfire songs and toast marshmallows, stupid," she countered, rolling her eyes.

"My study, I think. Not the library, because I seriously doubt that you'd be able to pay attention to anything being said," he replied.

"Is it that good?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"No, you're just that distractible," he teased, his silver eyes twinkling cheekily. It was something that Loli hadn't seen in him before. She smiled.

"Don't change, okay? Just… stay like this. Don't change," she requested quietly.

"I won't change if you don't leave," he offered. She rolled her eyes.

"Come on. Study. Downstairs. Let's go, if we hurry, we might be there by Christmas," she said decidedly, headed for the door.

"It's not _that_ big," he defended.

"Sure. And I'm not _that_ immature," she countered sarcastically. He rolled his eyes as they headed down the hall to the grand staircase. "Ever slid down the banister?" she asked curiously.

"Only once. I was in a cast for six weeks. It's very slippery," he replied warningly. Loli took another look at it, as if tempted to try anyway. "_No_," he ordered sternly.

"Come on, just once!"

"_No_, Lolita. I like you in one piece," he responded. She sighed, and started walking down the steps instead. "Study is this way," he informed her, as she made to turn to the left, instead of the right at the end of the stairs.

"I knew that," she snapped.

"Of course."

"Don't be patronising!"

"Oh, believe me, I'm not. This is sarcasm."

"Horrid old man," she retorted, rolling her eyes as they made their way through the hallway.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, pushing the door to the study open, and gesturing for her to enter. She walked through the threshold, and took a seat on one of the lounges. Darcy watched her sit down, before he pulled another lounge closer, so they were opposite to each other.

"So. You wanted to talk," she stated, trying to keep any trepidation from her tone. Darcy sat down, and said nothing for a moment.

"I want you to stay," he announced, after a pause. She practically groaned in irritation.

"Not this again," she muttered exasperatedly.

"I'm going to put everything on the table, and we can make a decision. Together," he decided. "Because this concerns the both of us, so we need to reach some kind of compromise," he added, before she could object.

"Fine," she muttered coolly. She really didn't want to discuss it at all. Darcy took a deep breath, before he began.

"First of all, it isn't your fault that Wickham is trying to hurt you. It's mine, and I should be responsible for that," he began. "I made a mistake in letting my feelings for you… become so obvious. I knew that I had to be careful, that it could put you in danger, but it didn't stop me, and I'm sorry that I've put you in this position," he continued.

"It's not your fault," she reminded him.

"Yes, Lolita, it _is_ my fault, it's _very much_ my fault," he replied tensely. "I knew the risks, and I disregarded them, because I'm so used to getting whatever I want. When you proved to be… well, let's just say ignorant of my emotions, I just made it worse. It was stupid of me to leave Wickham an opening like I did, and as a result, your life is now at risk," he stated. "And now it's just gotten more serious. I know that you think what you're doing is the only way, the best solution, but it _isn't_, and it's only going to cause more damage. When you're with me, I can protect you. James knows that at the moment, killing me would be a very stupid idea, but _you_," he said, taking a deep breath, "you're not supposed to be around. You've caused him a problem. And as long as you're with me, you're untouchable to him," he explained.

"What, because I'm a girl? Because we could have a kid, and that would destroy his plan? Why would he do that for such a small risk?" she questioned angrily.

"I'm sick of you referring to yourself as just a girl!" Darcy snapped. "Lolita, forgive me for what I'm about to say – but you need to grow up. Now I understand that it's just been you for a while, your father is God knows where and your mother has a family she needs to be with, but not _everything_ in this situation is _just_ about you. Hasn't it occurred to you that this isn't some little game that you walked into?" he questioned angrily. "Not _everything_ is some sort of magical make-believe fairytale, this whole business is fucked up, _James_ is fucked up, and he will do _anything_ to get rid of any threats to his plans!" he cried in irritation. "This isn't some sort of personal vendetta against you! It doesn't even _concern_ you, anyone with a pretty face that I had even looked at twice would be in the same position – just because you're the most stubborn woman on the planet doesn't mean that you have to make this difficult!" he continued.

"That's it, is it?" she questioned, after a few moments silence, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. She gave a small laugh. "Fine. I'll grow up. I'll look at this situation in the way that an adult would," she stated. "What do you want me to do, Darcy?" she asked bitterly. "Stay, right? Meanwhile, everyone I care for now knows that there's a mark on my head, and they're all going to be worrying their minds out," she continued. "James Wickham is blowing up streets full of people, sending out bottles of poisoned champagne, no regard for human life – he just wants me dead, and you say that _it doesn't concern me_?" she questioned angrily. "So that's it, right? You want to be a selfish bastard, it doesn't matter the danger, the _torment_ that my family and I are going to have to go through – because you'll have just another pretty face there for you to fuck or insult, depending on your mood," she added coolly, standing up, and making a move to leave.

Darcy grabbed her wrist, and pulled her onto his lap in one quick motion, placing one insistent hand on the back of her neck, and one on her waist, stopping her from pulling away. She glared at him angrily.

"You know what? Frankly, I'm getting tired of this constant arguing. The facts are that if you go back to London you'll be killed, and if you stay here, you're going to be fine. If you go anywhere else, even in hiding, you would almost definitely be killed. You keep trying to distance yourself from this, from _me_, calling _me_ selfish, but in reality, you and I both know that this is just your way of running away, _again_," he said coolly. "Your family don't even come _into_ this. They know that this is the safest place you can be right now, so do you think any of them are going to want you to leave?" he questioned coolly. "No, I didn't think so," he added, after she gave no response.

"Stop touching me," she practically spat, pulling away from him again.

"And just for the record, I don't want, or expect you to be my whore," he added coldly, releasing her. She rose again quickly to her feet, glaring at him.

"Fine. But under three conditions," she stated. He nodded. "Number one – you don't proposition me, you don't touch me, you don't kiss me," she stated.

"And what if you _want_ me to kiss you?" he questioned in response.

"Not going to happen. Number two, I need your assurance that no one else is going to be hurt, and that by staying here, I'm going to be safe," she said. He coloured slightly.

"I can't assure you of that," he replied calmly.

"Then you had better damn well try your hardest," she responded. "And number three, you have to call Caleb, and talk to him, make sure that he knows how Joan feels," she ordered finally.

"I've tried."

"Then _try harder_," she snapped. "Are we agreed?" she asked coolly.

"I somehow feel like I'm getting the better of this deal. But yes, we are agreed," he replied. "Now please sit down. There are other things we need to talk about," he requested of her.

"I'm overwhelming with excitement," she replied sarcastically, resuming her spot on the couch.

"I'd like you to see a doctor in London," he began. "He's very good, and I know that if anyone can find out what's wrong with you, he can," he continued, when he saw her frown.

"I'm sick of being poked and prodded, Darcy! I don't _care_ anymore!" she snapped.

"Well _I do_," he replied forcefully. "Do you think I'm stupid? Can't you see how pale you are? How _sick_ you look? I did some research, for all you know, you could have Leukaemia, Lolita," he stressed. "At the very _least_ you probably have ITP. Did you know that ITP caused the body to attack itself? That you could _die_?" he questioned angrily. "I have had to bury my mother, my father, and a sibling that never even got to open its eyes. Do you _really_ think that I want to bury the woman I love next?" he asked her.

"No," she muttered quietly.

"If there's a chance, if there's _any_ chance that he could make you better, then I think you should see him," he urged her. "He's a blood specialist and a surgeon. He could do a splenectomy, you could get better!"

"Splenectomies cause a huge risk of sepsis. They would have to pump me full of penicillin, and that would only destroy the few, _necessary_ platelets that I have. I would bleed out before I had a chance to recover from the operation," she muttered. "Darcy, I've _been_ through all of this before. A million times. I've even had a partial splenectomy – it nearly killed me when I was ten years old!" she cried angrily.

"And what about children?" he retorted.

"It's possible. I didn't say that I even _want_ kids though! I'm still young!" she stressed.

"I just want you to get better," he sighed quietly, leaning forwards, and resting his head in his hands.

"I'm fine as I am," she assured him. "I'm _fine_, Darcy. I'll go and see the doctor. Just don't get your hopes up," she said decidedly.

"Thank you," he muttered. "It's just – I know that I haven't known you for that long, but… you mean so much to me," he explained quietly. "And I've been so worried about what Wickham could do to you that I hadn't even – when I remembered that you're sick, I just –" he tried to get out, but the words were dying in his throat.

"You've had to see a lot of death. It's understandable," she replied, placing a hand on his arm for a moment. He placed his other hand over hers, linking their fingers, and squeezing it softly. He raised them to his lips for a moment, before he let her have it back.

"This isn't all I wanted to talk about, you know," he said, meeting her eyes. "I guess you know that I heard what you and Gigi were saying," he began. She nodded.

"At your own peril, mind you," she pointed out. He laughed softly, probably recalling how she had told Gigi that her brother was an excellent kisser.

"You said something to her. Well, you said quite a bit, but there were a few things that were bothering me," he continued. "The first thing is that… you said you don't feel like you know me," he explained. "And I realised that whilst I feel like I know so much about you, you're right, you hardly know who I am," he continued. "So I'm going to tell you what I can, you can ask me anything, and I'll tell you," he said with determination.

"Well then, shoot. Tell me everything," she requested, shifting in the chair to make herself comfortable. He laughed slightly.

"Uh… well, my name is Fitzwhitlam Avgustinus Darcy, I'm half Russian, my mother's name was Anya Filischkin, but it was changed to Fitzwilliam when her family moved to England," he explained.

"You're Russian? Can you speak it?" she asked curiously.

"Quite fluently. I'm out of practise now, but my mother used to teach it to me," he informed her, with a small smile.

"Tell me about her," she requested. His smile faltered.

"It's not a happy story," he replied, looking suddenly quite depressed. He swallowed. "I guess the main thing is that I miss her. Terribly. It's been years, but… I still can't even believe she's gone," he admitted, staring at the carpet.

Loli bit her lip softly. He was showing emotion. Something that she just hadn't seen him display that often. She felt like she was intruding, but she _had_ to know, and he had to tell her. She picked herself up, and quite surprised him by sitting on his lap, pulling her legs up beneath her chin, and resting her head on his chest. He relaxed quite quickly, and pulled her closer to him before he continued speaking, softly stroking the ends of her hair.

"She was very beautiful. I'll have to show you pictures of her, there are boxes full of them in the attic. She looks a lot like Gigi, but there was this elegance to her that seemed to… just radiate off her completely," he began again. "She was tall, but petit too, like you. She had been raised her entire life to act a certain way, and she was very proper. But she was also the kind of mother that had no hesitation to involve herself in the life of her children. Gigi didn't know her for that long, which… is terribly sad," he continued. "But she loved children. She had a lot of difficulty getting pregnant, and her last one… she was very sick all the way through. She was too weak to give birth, but she insisted on it, she didn't want a C-section, she didn't even go to a hospital. She said that a home birth would be more special," he sighed.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered into his shoulder.

"I have this… imagine in my head, of her body being carried out of the bedroom. For years I couldn't even go to that part of the house. I had it turned into a playroom for Callum when he was born," he informed her. "I figured that there had been death in there for so long, that it needed some life in it," he added.

"What about your father?" she asked curiously.

"He was never particularly warm to Gigi or I," he replied. "Everything between us was terribly formal, I always called him 'Father' or 'Sir', never Dad, and I have no recollection of any physical contact outside of a handshake," he explained. "He was a very good man. The best man in the world. He loved Gigi, Mother and I a great deal, but he could never show it to us. He had a lot of difficulty with emotion," he continued.

"Don't get angry – but he's sounds a lot like you, sometimes," she said quietly. "I mean, you're very… reserved. And proud. I've seen it. You're not so bad when it's just you and I, or Richard, but… with everyone else, even Gigi, you seem… shy. But not unfeeling," she explained. Darcy curled a lock of her hair through his fingers, kissing her temple softly and holding her closer to his body.

"He would have loved you, I can tell," he laughed quietly. "If he were here, right now, I know that the first thing he'd say would be 'you're mad, son,', and the second would be 'and madder still if you let that girl go'," he said warmly, stroking her cheek, looking as if he were completely and totally entranced by her "In fact, if he were alive, and about thirty or forty years younger, I'd probably have some tough competition for you," he continued.

Loli blushed, and lowered her head. Hadn't she been warning him against touching her a few minutes ago?

"Do you know how insanely beautiful I find you?" he asked her curiously, placing a hand under her chin and raising it softly to meet her eyes.

"Darcy, I'm pretty, at best. There's a lot makeup and photoshop can do, that's the only reason why I'm in McBitchley's magazines," she responded. He frowned.

"No, you're… well, stunning really," he replied, running a finger across her jaw, and down her neck with agonising slowness. "Have you ever been in love before?" he asked her softly, dragging his eyes back up to meet hers, his hand resting on the curve of her neck into her shoulder.

"No," she replied honestly.

"I want to know about… all the others," he said slowly, as if even thinking about it was just torture to him. "About all the men you've dated," he clarified. Loli took a deep breath.

"It's not exactly a long list, you know," she informed him.

"Lolita, I want to know. I _need_ to know," he said firmly. "I – I'm a jealous man. I admit that. But I won't get angry, I promise. No matter what," he said in earnest.

"Well, I moved around a lot when I was little, and I hated boys, up until I was about fifteen," she began. "Guys didn't really like me. I was loud and obnoxious, and… well, not particularly attractive. Seriously, I had the chest of a nine year old boy until I was about seventeen, eighteen," she continued. "But… when I was sixteen I was living in… God, I think it might have been Cyprus? Or possibly San Fransi – no, wait, it was France. I was living in France with my mother, she had just gotten married, and this guy called Claude took me to a concert," she said, grinning with the memory. "He spilled beer all over me, tried to kiss me whilst his breath reeked of alcohol, and then got a little bit eager with the hands. So I punched him," she said proudly. He chuckled.

"Good. He deserved it," he replied. "Please tell me that's it," he requested hopefully. She laughed.

"Not quite," she responded. "I dated his brother for a few months though, but then I moved back to England to start University," she explained cheekily. He laughed, and rolled his eyes. "I went out with a few guys in Uni, they weren't really that serious, most of them were complete blockheads or turned out to be gay," she shrugged.

"And is _that_ it?" he asked hopefully.

"Well… no," she muttered, taking a deep breath. "I was just starting my third year of Uni. He was one of my Professors, he taught Art History," she began. She felt him tense up immediately. "We were together for six months. I didn't love him. We weren't too serious, it didn't really bother either of us that he was a teacher, it never became a problem," she admitted. "We broke up because I was too busy studying my behind off to commit to a relationship, and in the end, he wanted someone more mature. So we just forgot about it. But then six months later, somehow we were found out, he was charged with dating a student, he had his teaching license suspended, and he went to jail for half a year," she said quietly.

"Did he sleep with you?" he asked irately.

"Whit, it doesn't matter if he did or if he didn't," she replied firmly. "The point is, I made a mistake, and so did he, but he was the one that paid for it. He was angry with me at first, and then we managed to talk, just before he went to prison. He said that he knew that he shouldn't have done it, and he was willing to handle the repercussions of his actions," she explained.

"You were a _child_," he spat angrily.

"No, I wasn't. I was a teenager, but still legally and emotionally able to handle myself," she responded calmly. "I've dated a few people after him, but once again, nothing too serious. Come to think of it, I've _never_ been in a serious relationship," she muttered.

"The thought of another man touching you… I just –" he tried to get out.

"Leave it. You can't change the past, and in the end, it just doesn't matter," she replied.

"Why have you never had a serious relationship?" he asked suddenly, frowning slightly. She shrugged.

"I never met the right guy. No one really clicked with me," she admitted. "And you? What dark mysteries do you have in your past?" she asked curiously. He sighed.

"Uh… I tended to… well, when I was in my early twenties I… didn't really… it was…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"You're trying to tell me that you were either a virgin, or a man-whore, right?" she questioned. He winced.

"Not to such extremities, but out of the two, it's the latter, I'm afraid," he admitted. "When I grew out of that… phase, I started to date older women. I tried not to get too close, and I never introduced them to Gigi, because I was worried that she might get attached, and if the relationship didn't work out, which they never did, she would be heartbroken," he explained. "The last girl I was even close to serious about was Magy. We were together for a bit over a year, but I never really… well, there was never much there," he continued. "When it became clear that all she wanted was money, I ended it. I've dated a little, but there hasn't really been much to speak of since then," he explained.

"Why?" she asked curiously. He laughed softly.

"Women who appear to be interested in me want either sex, money, or both. I got sick of it very quickly, and decided that I wouldn't do that to myself again," he explained. "I wanted love, I wanted a family, someone that I could spend forever with in a perfect little cliché world," he continued, placing his hand under her chin, and leading her face up to his. "I wanted _you_ before I had even met you," he said softly.

And then it all came crashing down. Loli bit her lip, and turned away. She slid off his lap, and ran a frustrated hand through her hair. Realising that something was wrong, Darcy stood up immediately, concern spread over his face.

"What is it?" he questioned quickly as she started to pace. "Lolita, what's wrong? Tell me!" he urged her, becoming stressed.

Loli's head was spinning. Forever sounded so definite, so set in stone. Did she want forever? With him? She felt like someone was standing behind her, pushing her forwards, saying '_choose now!'_, and she just wasn't ready to choose. He had led her to the edge of a cliff, and now he was asking her to jump with him. And what was worse, she had let him take her there, offering no resistance. What was _wrong_ with her? How could she do that to him?

"Lolita, _answer_ me, damn you!" he cried, snapping her out of her musings. She stopped pacing, and turned to him, taking in a sharp breath of air, feeling hot tears leak from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. "I – I am _so_ sorry," she repeated, raising a hand to her mouth to cover a sob that she knew was going to slip from her lips.

"Lolita?" he questioned softly, taking a cautious step towards her. "What's wrong? A – are you sick? Did I say something?" he asked, reaching out to touch her.

"No! Please, don't, you can't," she said, pulling away from his hand, her voice muffled as she spoke through fingers held softly over her mouth.

"_Tell_ me! Just tell me what's going on!" he begged of her.

"I'm not _ready_ for forever!" she cried suddenly, her eyes widening as she realised what she had said.

Was that it? Was that what had been holding her back ever since she had met him? Was she so frightened of something definite that she had been running away from it her whole life?

How utterly, completely _childish_ of her.

She watched his face. There was half a second of quiet shock, before her statement sunk in, the corners of his eyebrows fell, his bottom lip went downwards slightly, his eyes looking so desperately _sad_, before a restored his mask.

"I see," he replied stiffly, straightening his jumper, as if it were of the upmost interest to him. "Are you ready for anything? If not forever, are you even ready for _tomorrow_?" he questioned, raising his head in irritation.

"I – I honestly don't think that I'm ready for today," she admitted, sounding as if she were in disbelief of herself. Darcy shook his head, and gave a bitter noise of sarcastic amusement.

"I'm laying my heart out here, I'm telling you things that I've _never_ told another human being before, and you don't even know if you're _ready_ to be talking to me?" he questioned in angry disbelief. "You call me private and reserved? I'm being more open than I've ever been, _I'm the one giving here_!" he cried angrily. "I've given _everything_ to this relationship, everything that it _is_! And I didn't even _realise_ until this second that it is completely one sided!" he continued.

"I'm not saying that I don't want this – I – I just – I don't know if I can _do_ forever yet," she tried to explain.

"Why am I even bothering anymore?" he questioned, raising his hands, and running one through his hair. "What am I even doing? This – this is like emotional masturbating!" he cried.

"Shut _up_!"

He stopped running his hands through his hair.

"You may be giving everything to this 'relationship', but it's _not_ one sided!" she cried angrily. "I'm just as much a part of this as you – and just because I'm –" gulp " – _scared_, doesn't mean that you have the right to get angry at me!" she snapped. "All I'm saying is that I don't want to start choosing the colour scheme for the reception and picking out baby names! _You_ may be experienced at this sort of thing, but _I'm not_!" she continued.

He stared at her silently, trying to search her eyes, trying to find her meaning. There was a tiny ray of hope hidden behind his silver irises, driving her onward.

"You – you make me feel… so wonderful, and I don't even think I _could_ leave you, even if I wanted to, but I'm _still_ terrified, and I don't even know why! It's like – you're all I can think of, and I know it shouldn't be that way, not right now, but it _is_, and I want to be near you all the time, and – when you look at me I feel so – alive, and I don't even know why!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her torso, not as a plea for warmth, but for something real to hold onto for at least a few moments. She choked back tears. "I don't understand it at _all_, and – and that's so frightening," she said quietly. "I – I can't think about life without you _in it_ anymore, I can't stop myself from wanting to be near you, no matter how angry you make me, no matter how stupid and arrogant and horrid you've been, I can only think of how I feel about you! And I don't even know what it is!" she cried finally, wiping her eyes with the sleave of his jumper.

"It's called love, Lolita," he said, a smile growing on his face, even though there were tears twinkling in his eyes.

"Really?" she responded in disbelief. "I – it is?" she questioned.

"I think it is," he assured her, taking one quick step forwards and pulling her into his arms, holding her tight to his body, laughing joyfully. She couldn't help but laugh too as he picked her up, and spun her around quickly, before claiming her lips in a kiss.

She smiled into his mouth.

Love? She wasn't sure.

"I'm staying," she whispered quietly into his ear.

~ * ~

Robert Clarkson was a patient man. A reasonable man.

Well, to a degree.

He stood in the front entrance hall for Pemberley Manor with an irritated scowl upon his face, having already sent a servant up with the girl's things. It wasn't that he hated Lolita Gardiner. It was just that she annoyed the living hell out of him, and all Darcy could see were her pretty blue eyes and charming smile.

He was growing impatient, however, because he had been waiting for half an hour to speak with his employer, and he was apparently 'busy' in the study. 'Could I go in there?', Clarkson asked. 'I'm afraid not. Mister Darcy is speaking with Miss Gardiner, privately,', the servant had replied.

"Clarkson! I only just got told that you'd arrived," he heard a familiar voice say. He turned to see Darcy walking towards him, his face unshaven and his clothes a bit rumpled, but looking in quite good spirits all the same.

"I wasn't allowed to disturb your private 'conversation' with The Mark," he snapped coolly. Darcy's eyes narrowed instantly.

"You don't have to call her 'The Mark'," he replied, frowning.

"Where is she?" he questioned with disinterest. "Let me guess, she's either playing Doll Houses or warming your bed up for you," he snapped coldly. Darcy's eyes flashed dangerously.

"My study. _Now_," he insisted, turning heel and storming through to the hall. He wrenched the door open quickly, and turned, as Clarkson closed it quietly. "I know that you don't approve of Lolita. But I'm not asking for your approval, merely your protection," he began coldly.

"She's a child," he responded pointedly. "A silly, selfish child. And you're endangering her life. Of all the women in the world, why _her_?" he questioned in disbelief. "She's _barely_ pretty, a simple degree in the Arts, the _worst_ sense of fashion in the world, she's painfully rude, and too stubborn to do what someone tells her when it could save her life," he listed, his eyes cold, his voice detached and filled with anger at the same time.

"First of all – it's not your place to say things like that, Clarkson," he began angrily.

"But it's my place to pick up the pieces when your little bed partner decides to relocate herself without telling me?" he snapped. "I know her type, Darcy. You might think that she'll be yours forever, but she's going to leave, and when she does, it's probably going to be at the cost of her life. Maybe even yours," he stated, glaring at his employer furiously.

"She's not leaving. She loves me, Clarkson, it terrifies her, but she knows that her place is beside _me_," Darcy practically growled in response.

"I very much doubt that she does. Everyone, even _she_ is perfectly aware that her place is either behind you or beneath you, do you _honestly_ think that _anyone_ is going to accept a little brat like her into the world?" he questioned. Darcy coloured. "This is just going to make you more enemies. And it's going to get her killed," he spat.

"Ultimately my relationship with her is _my_ decision. It has nothing to do with you," he snapped pointedly.

"Not when I'm the one who has to practically baby sit her," he sneered in return. Darcy have a bitter laugh.

"You know what? It doesn't matter what you think. _I_ love her, and you're going to keep her alive. Is that clear?" he questioned coolly.

"Perfectly," Clarkson snapped. "I've had her things sent up already. We got pretty much everything from the apartment. Anything else?" he questioned pointedly.

"I don't know why you seem to hate Lolita – but you had better not let it influence your judgement when it comes to her safety," he said coolly. "Get out of here. Next time we speak, you had better hold your tongue," he added sharply, turning to his desk. Clarkson turned back to the door, and stepped out of the office.

_Darcy is just as bad as his little playmate,_ he thought, before he left the estate.

**A/N: So one reviewer (I think it might have been Maria, I'm not 100 per cent on that) commented that Darcy is like Edward Cullen, because he's all protective. I decided to throw that in, lol. Oh, and please, if you're a Twilight fan, don't get angry at me for calling Bella a Mary-Sue and making the crack about Edward and the whole 'Spirit Fingers' and glitter thing, the fact of the matter is that I read the series, and I wasn't that fond of it, but I won't criticise it publicly, because that's just unfair to Twilight fans. I love you all, please review :D**


	37. Words

**A/N: So, I apologise for the long wait for this chapter, but after a minor neck and shoulder injury, I've been unable to sit up for a few days. I'm terribly sorry, but I saw the chiropractor today and got it looked at, and he did some sort of neck-cracking thing that really helped. So once again, sorry for the wait! :D**

Fitzwhitlam Darcy couldn't help but give a relaxed sigh as he lay back on the large beach towel, his eyes protected from the blinding sun with a pair of dark shades and a large umbrella, its white stalk planted in the white sand.

He sat up slightly, leaning on his elbows, staring out into the crystal blue waves, the white foam on their tips identical to the fluffy clouds in the sky that had blurred with the ocean.

She wore a pale pink bikini with thin white pinstripes, and tiny little blue bows on the straps. Her long scarlet hair fell down in damp tresses, curling tightly at the ends around her waist. With one slender, pale arm, she pushed a curl back from her face as she walked slowly in the softly crashing waves, the foam rising around her creamy white thighs.

"You can stop watching me now, you know," she called to him teasingly. He grinned.

"I'm being your lifeguard. It's my job to watch you," he replied.

She laughed playfully, tiny beads of salty water running in rivulets over the pale skin of her slender yet curvy form. She raised an arm to the strap of her bikini top, pulling on it before letting go, allowing it to snap against her skin teasingly. He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging her.

"Go on. No one's around," he requested, his eyes greedily taking in her form.

"Good. Because I'm not into public performances," she laughed. She raised another arm to run along the strap of her top, her thumb sliding beneath the fabric, and running over her skin.

Whit couldn't move his eyes away as he watched her. He felt a sharp poke in his side, and shifted slightly as she let one strap fall off her shoulder. He fidgeted again when he felt another jab, and another, but somehow, he couldn't move his eyes away from her.

"Stop it," he muttered in annoyance to whatever was causing him the distraction from his lovely, lovely girlfriend's lack of modesty. "I said stop it!" he repeated in irritation as the poking only got harder. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, not as her top fell innocently into the waves, sinking down to the sandy bottom. "_Stop it_!" he demanded sharply, sitting up, tearing his eyes open.

He wanted to growl in annoyance as he took in the early morning sunlight streaming into his bedroom, there was no beach, there was no strip tease in the ocean, only a feeling of dizziness for having sat up too quickly, and a sharp pain in his side from being poked continuously for the last five minutes.

"Why'da sleep in Loli's bed?" he heard a familiar, inquisitive voice question. He sighed, and glanced to the side of the bed. Magdalen stood atop a footstool that she had dragged from across the room, staring at him curiously. He quickly pulled the sheets up around his waist, because he wasn't wearing pants, and for a five year old girl, he had learnt quickly that Magdalen was _far_ too curious.

"I didn't. Your sister slept in _my_ bed," he explained tiredly, falling back onto the mattress, running a hand through his hair wearily.

"Why?" she asked curiously.

"Because she likes me," he answered sharply. "Your Mummy and Daddy. They sleep in the same bed, don't they?" he questioned, after sighing, trying to regain his temper, as Maddy nodded, her blue eyes wide. "Well, Lolita and I are like that," he explained shortly, pulling the sheet back up, and checking that his scarlet haired lover was still in the land of nod.

"But you aren't Mummy and Daddy," Maddy stated, frowning slightly. Whit sighed.

"Yes, but your Mummy and Daddy love each other. I love Lolita," he informed her shortly, grabbing a spare pillow, and pressing it over his head. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Maddy from talking.

"I love Eve and Ezie and Nate, but I don't sleep in _dey're_ beds," she stated.

"I love your sister differently. In the same way that your parents love each other," he practically growled through the pillow. He just wanted to get back to sleep, was that so much to ask?

"Oh," Maddy said in realisation. "Den why aren't you wearing any clothes?" she asked curiously. Whit slowly removed the pillow from his face, staring at the roof.

"Magdalen Grace Gardiner, this is a conversation that you should be having with your parents," he stated calmly.

"Ezie and Nate have got one, you know," she informed him, climbing onto the bed clumsily in her pink Disney Princess nightgown, stepping over him, and cuddling up next to her sister.

"Got what?" Whit asked, frowning slightly. He was fond of the girl, but she was a little too much of a morning person for his liking.

"One of dose things at da bottom of your tummy," she replied.

The blood drained from his face very quickly.

"You were _looking_?" he questioned, completely aghast.

"You were _nakie_, I'm going to tell Mummy that you were _nakie_ and so was Loli," she announced proudly, her pink little lips opening up to a toothy smile, or rather, one missing her front two teeth. Her hair was a mass of ginger tangles, and she had several pale brown freckles all over her face, but she _did_ look very similar to her sister, he decided.

"Now Magdalen," he said calmly, making sure that the sheet was covering _everything_. "Your Mummy doesn't know that… your sister and I sleep in the same room, okay?" he began. She nodded, sticking her thumb into her mouth, glittery nail polish and all. "And your Mummy isn't going to find out until either your sister or I tell her. So you _can't_ tell your Mummy, okay?" he continued patiently. "Or else your Mummy might be interested to know that you went into my room without asking," he added.

"Are you gonna be my new brother?" she asked curiously.

"Someday, yes," he replied patiently, as the child pulled her legs up beneath her chin.

"And are you gonna be Ezie and Nate's brother too?" she continued to question. He sighed.

"_Yes_, Magdalen, I will be," he sighed, rubbing his temples.

"And Eveey's?"

"Yes, and Eveey's."

"Does dat mean you'll get me a birthday present?" she asked hopefully, blue eyes shining.

"Yes, I will. But only if you're a good girl, and let me get some _sleep_," he begged her. She looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Why are boys different to girls?" she questioned curiously, blinking her wide eyes. He sighed, and fell back into the bed.

"Because that's the way that God made them," he snapped.

"Dey taught us about God at school," she announced happily. "He lives in the clouds. He makes it rain and he turns on the sun," she informed him.

"God lives in Heaven," he corrected her.

"Where's dat?" she asked curiously. He sighed. How did he explain theology to a five year old?

"Uh… it's up _there_," he said, pointing at the ceiling. "And it's over _there_," he added, pointing out the window. "And _there_, too," he added, pointing in the opposite direction. "_And_, it's also right _here_," he said, pointing at her heart. She looked at her chest.

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is. Heaven is inside everyone," he argued.

"No it's not! They said dat everyone goes dere when they die! There's no _room_ for them all!" she cried, frowning.

"It's not _really_ there, it's metaphorical," he tried to explain, growing irritated.

"Ooooooh, you _lied_!" she cried gleefully, as if the concept were the most delightful thing on earth.

"No I didn't, I used a literary technique," he snapped.

"Do you go to church?" she asked him suddenly.

"Uhh… no. I don't," he answered awkwardly.

"Are you a chwistiem?" she questioned.

"Err… not in a literal… I'm not… I have my _views_… uhh, it's not to say that I don't… I respect the… umm…" he trailed off, frowning. "Magdalen, go back to bed," he snapped finally, crossing his arms.

"I wanna stay with _Loli_," she objected petulantly.

"It's my bed."

"It's a _big_ bed."

"I'm not letting you sleep in it. Not until I'm decently covered."

"Loli isn't wearin' a shirt."

"No, she's not."

"Is she wearin' pants?"

"No, she's not."

"How comes?"

"Because."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"I'm _five_!"

"I'm over six times your age. _I_ have a slight advantage."

"Can I have some chocolate?"

"Ask Mrs Reynolds."

"I like her. She smells like flowers and cake."

"I'll be sure to pass that on. Now go back to bed, I'm tired."

"Okay, I will," she said finally, standing up, and carefully (with only minimal injury to his own person) she stepped off the bed, and climbed onto the footstool. "Bye-bye new big brother," she added, leaning forwards, and kissing him on the nose.

"Bye-bye new little sister," he smiled, patting her wiry-haired head, before rolling over in bed.

The moment that the door had closed, he heard decidedly _awake_ feminine laughter ring out from the place beside him. He turned, only to see Loli covering her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her giggles.

"You were awake?" he questioned incredulously. She nodded. "The whole time?"

"Oh, I was awake before you. I was going to say something to Magdalen, but if I opened my eyes she'd want to come into bed with us," she explained, between laughter. Darcy rolled his eyes, and lay back on the bed, running a hand through his hair.

"You're very horrible sometimes, you know," he informed her. She gave another small giggle.

"Lies. I'm wonderful and perfect _all_ the time," she corrected him smugly, shifting closer. "Oh, and good save earlier, by the way. I really couldn't see a way you were going to tell Magdalen why we were 'nakie'," she laughed.

"That girl is _far_ too curious," he muttered petulantly.

"Yes, but you have to admit, she _is_ very cute," she pointed out. He muttered something. "What was that?"

"I said that I prefer her sister," he snapped.

"Well, yeah, Eve _is_ pretty darn cute, even if she's terrified of you," she conceded.

"I meant _you_, and Eve isn't terrified of me," he objected. Loli rolled her eyes.

"That whole cowering in fear has nothing to do with you then," she said sarcastically.

"She doesn't _cower_, we get along very well. She's just a little shy," he argued. Loli laughed.

"Okay hun, whatever you say," she replied in a teasing, humouring voice, shifting closer to him again, resting her head on his chest as he wrapped an arm comfortably around her waist.

She had been a part of Pemberley for over three months now. Whilst he had originally thought that they could be back in London by then, the appeal had been postponed, after all the trouble he had gone to in order to bring it forwards. So that meant that the world outside of Pemberley was still dangerous for the both of them.

But Darcy had become so used to being around Lolita so often, and he honestly couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier. He woke up to see her beautiful face everyday, and fell asleep to the same image every night. What could be better?

The Gardiners had only been staying with them for three days so far, but he felt like he had known them for years. Mrs Gardiner was a very kind and sensible woman, and he could see instantly where Loli had gotten a lot of her looks. The clear blue eyes and warm red curls were definitely from her side of the family. And Edgar was a very interesting man, Darcy had originally been somewhat hesitant, understanding that he worked in construction or something or other, but it turned out that Edgar had started and ran his own construction machinery business, and it was rapidly expanding over Europe.

He liked having Pemberley alive again.

"Hmm, this is the bit where you throw some biting comeback at me," she muttered into his chest with a sleepy voice.

"Let's not, and say we did, shall we?" he suggested with a grin. "So. Any plans for today?" he asked her curiously, and she shrugged against his chest.

"Meh. Got some work, a set of wallpapers for some band, and a few tee-shirt graphic designs to do, and the others are going to Lambton later today," she replied tiredly.

"Will that involve you leaving this bed?"

"I can't decide if this is a 'good job, Captain Obvious' moment, or a 'congratulations, you've just been updated to Don Juan' kind of thing," she commented idly.

"How about 'Whit, I love you passionately and I never want to leave your side'," he offered hopefully.

"Nah, that just doesn't quite seem to fit," she replied teasingly, shifting to the other side of the bed, and sliding off to stand on her feet.

"It's still early. You have the whole day to do the wallpapers," he tried to reason, as she pulled on a stray shirt that had been pulled off in haste the night before. "And is it necessary for you to wear clothing?" he questioned. She laughed.

"Stop winging. If I get the wallpapers done early enough, I can come with Mum, Edgar and the little ones to Lambton," she reasoned, as Darcy sat up.

"_Or_, you could forget about the wallpapers and the shopping spree, take that shirt off and get back into bed," he suggested.

"Two words. Sex Pest," she called back to him, before disappearing into the bathroom.

"Can we at least have a shower together? You know, save water and everything?" he questioned, loudly enough for her to hear.

"No. I have _no_ intention of getting soap in my eyes again," she replied, before he heard the sounds of the shower turning on. "Oh, and I locked the door. Sorry about that!" she added.

Whit laughed softly. Things had changed recently.

But he wouldn't want them any other way.

~ * ~

Loli leant back in the entirely too comfortable office chair, letting out a sigh of relaxation. It was only eleven thirty in the morning, and she had already finished the wallpapers. She knew spending a week making almost a thousand different textures would be very handy in the long run.

She spun around in the chair, taking in the room. It had been a sitting room before, one of the many, _many_ sitting rooms in the grand house, but Darcy had turned it into an office for her. He recognised that she needed her space, and respected that, and she was forever grateful.

Things had been… well, different. Strange. Wonderful.

Her first few days at Pemberley had been unusual, she would jump every time one of the servants addressed her as 'Miss', she was paranoid that she would break every single one of the family heirlooms if she wasn't careful, so therefore walked around with extreme caution, and did all of her work on the floor of her bedroom.

Being with Whit almost twenty-four-seven had been challenging, to say the least. She learnt quickly that the combination of two incredibly stubborn people in the same house was a recipe for disaster. But no matter how much they fought and argued, by the end of it, they only cared for each other more. And Gigi was simply wonderful, she was a little bit shy, but incredibly sweet, and she cared for her little boy more than anything else in the world.

She had expected, however, to be back in London by then. It had been proved that she hadn't died in the bombing, but was actually on holiday in Tahiti (_that_ lie was curtesy of Clarkson, who had been strangely indifferent to her recently), so she was wondering when she would be able to return. After all, she did have a life back there, no matter how lonely it had been.

She gave another long sigh. The appeal was coming up in a few more weeks. Darcy had been growing tense and snappish about the topic, so she avoided it if possible. And when it did come up, she found that all he really wanted was her to be close to him, to let him hold her.

He was difficult to live with in some ways. He was frightfully private about his feelings and his emotions, and whilst he was very willing to speak of his love for her, he had really only opened up to her on her first day at Pemberley in the library. She _wanted_ to understand him, because she hadn't even come to terms with her own feelings, and how could she, if she didn't even know of his? His feelings for _her_ were evident enough, but there were things that made her wonder.

He was incredibly receptive to touch. Whenever he could, he would place a hand on her arm, her waist, he would pull her towards his chest, he would brush her hair every night, he would link their hands; he was hardly ever _not_ touching her. Why? Did he have some sort of deep underlying fear or issue? Why was it that some people that he had known all his life, like several of the servants at the estate, he purposely avoiding being close to, even though, to all outward appearances, he thought very well of them?

He was incredibly, ridiculously confusing. When they were together, alone, or sometimes with Callum and Gigi, or even Mrs Reynolds, he was talkative, funny, outgoing and warm. Even with her brothers and sisters, who had only arrived a few days earlier, and were planning to stay for the rest of the week, he was slightly more receptive, but with her mother and stepfather, and come to think of it, almost everyone else in the world, he was cold, said little, and never smiled.

She couldn't help but wonder if she should have waited to see him again. Perhaps if she had waited until Joan had returned and spoken with Cale (at the moment the pair were tentatively trying to communicate, Joan had explained how their conversations were awkward, and things were strained, but they were moving forwards), or until he had returned to London, things would have been easier. It seemed like there were things he needed to learn, he needed to loosen up, he needed time to heal.

She didn't know what it was, but there was something inside of her, gnawing at her insides, strangling her, making it hard to breathe. She felt so desperately trapped, and she didn't even know why.

She sighed once more as she stood up, and closed her laptop. She left her office and headed downstairs, joining the others for lunch.

"Loli!" Ezekiel squealed the moment she appeared in the dining room. "Where were _you_?" he questioned excitedly. Loli smiled at the picture before her. Seated around the dining table were her brothers and sisters, Callum in his high-chair, Gigi spoon feeding him, and Darcy, with Eve sitting on his lap.

"No, you _eat_ it," he insisted to the little girl, who was staring at a plate filled with salad and roast chicken. She shook her head vehemently. "It goes in your _mouth_, and you eat it. It's good. It tastes nice," he assured her. She shook her head again, and he let out a frustrated sigh. "Eve, it's green, but that doesn't mean that you can't eat it," he tried to rationalise. He picked up a piece of lettuce, and put it in his mouth. "See? It's nice," he assured her.

Loli took a seat opposite Darcy and the silent toddler in his arms, where a plate had been set out for her.

"She doesn't want to eat," he said with exasperation. "And she hasn't said a word. Not since she came to Pemberley," he added.

"She's just shy, aren't you darling," Loli said softly, looking into Eve's clear blue eyes. She was small for a three year old, and her pale red hair wasn't quite as frizzy as Magdalen's. She had no freckles, and was rather pale, because she didn't go outside much, she normally preferred to be indoors, playing doll houses by herself.

"What can I do?" he asked her softly, glancing over the table with pleading eyes. Loli smiled at her little sister.

"Talk to her. She likes to hear people talk, don't you, sweetheart," she replied quietly, still looking at the toddler, who nodded slightly, clutching a small pig-like doll to her chest. Darcy sighed, and adjusted his hold of the girl, so she was sitting with her head leaning against his chest. He started talking to her quietly, in a soft whisper, so not even Loli could hear. She knew that Eve was listening, but she still said nothing.

"I feel like I'm getting through to her," he declared later that evening, after they had all returned from Lambton. They were in the living room, lying on one of the couches, Loli listening to his continuous heartbeat reverberating against his ribcage.

"Has she said anything to you yet?" Loli asked curiously.

"Not quite. But I know she will, soon," he assured her firmly.

"Whit?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled, looking deep in thought.

"Why are you… well, not that I disapprove or anything, but is she some sort of puzzle to you?" she questioned softly. He said nothing for a little while.

"She reminds me of someone who I'm quite sure was very lonely as a child. Children shouldn't be lonely," he murmured finally.

"And did this child look a lot like you, in miniature form?" she questioned, her heart speeding up with the thought that maybe, _maybe_, he might be opening up for her again.

"I can imagine that she looked quite similar to Eve, actually," he replied after a long pause.

"I wasn't lonely," she insisted, the moment she understood his meaning. "I had my Mum, and I had my Dad. I wasn't lonely," she assured him. He didn't look at her, but simply nodded quietly, staring up at the roof. "But weren't _you_… you know, lonely?" she asked softly. He shook his head.

"I had my mother. She was extremely important to me," he answered, holding her a little bit tighter.

"Whit, this might be a strange question, but do you have any recollection of ever being hugged?" she asked suddenly. He frowned.

"What?" he questioned, his frown growing.

"Think of your childhood. Can you remember being hugged? Can you remember any physical contact from your parents?" she asked softly. He looked thoughtful.

"From my mother, I suppose. I liked being held by her, but not my father. He was… cold. He disapproved of too much affection, so mother never really held me when he was around," he explained hesitantly. "Did you finish your wallpapers?" he asked her curiously. Her heart fell. He was trying to change the subject.

"Yes. But did your father ever hold you?" she questioned.

"Uhhh – no. In upper-class families it wasn't that uncommon," he answered blankly, as if he were stating a fact about last night's weather.

"You're very touch sensitive, you know," she commented. He shrugged.

"I like touching you," he said simply.

"Do you think that it could have something to do with why you like touching me so much? Why you're so desperate to get Eve to open up?" she questioned carefully. He frowned.

"You must be tired. Have you had your medication yet?" he asked, avoiding the question. She sighed, and shook her head. "I think I'm going to turn in early. Did you want me to get it for you before I head upstairs?" he asked. She shook her head against his chest. "Will you be in my room tonight?" he questioned her.

"I have been for the past two months," she responded, giving a small frown. "I – I think I might stay downstairs for a little while. Maybe read a bit," she shrugged. He nodded, and sat up, her head sliding off his chest.

"Goodnight then," he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, before standing, and leaving the room.

Loli sat up, and sighed. She thought that maybe they had been getting somewhere. But why was it so difficult for him to just talk to her about who he was?

Why did he want everything from her, but refused to give anything in return?

"Someone looks thoughtful."

She turned quickly to the doorway. She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, thinking, but she suspected it had been a while. Her mother crossed the room, and took a seat on the armchair opposite the chaise that Loli was resting on.

"So. Talk to me, darling," she demanded warmly, adjusting herself so that she could be comfortable. Loli sighed as she sat up, and ran a hand through her hair, pulling her legs under her chin. She loved her mother dearly, and she wished that she could be with her more. Was Darcy still grieving for _his_ mother? "Moon? Sweetheart?" Loli looked up at her mother's questioning voice. "Darling, you're crying," she said softly, wiping a tear from her daughter's face.

"I'm trying. I really am, I _really_ am trying," she swore, feeling very much a child. "And he's been _so_ good, so why do I feel… all wrong inside? I just want him to _talk_ to me, to be honest, and he just can't! Why is he so – so _stupidly_ introverted?" she questioned, wiping her cheeks with the sleave of her shirt.

"Baby, I've only known him for a little while, but I think that Whit is a good man," she assured her, placing a hand on her arm. "He's just used to be on his own. And I think that he wants you to be a part of his life very much. He probably doesn't even know how you feel about this," she explained. Loli nodded, and wiped away the last of her tears. "He's a good man," her mother said softly.

"Yes. He is," she replied. "He's demanding and over controlling. But he's a good person," she agreed softly.

"So how do you feel about living with him?" she asked carefully, examining her daughter with her clear blue eyes.

"Honestly?" Loli questioned, with a small smile. "It's been both wonderful and horrible. I won't pretend that he's easy to live with, and I still hardly know him, but it _has_ been exciting," she confessed.

"Do you think that if you two were back in London, and you weren't being stalked by murderers, that you two would have moved in together?" she questioned curiously. Loli shook her head firmly.

"Not at all. And if I were being honest with myself, I would rather that we hadn't moved in together for a long time," she answered thoughtfully. "I – I wasn't ready for this. I'm still not ready for it. But he wanted me to jump so badly, and I guess that I did," she sighed.

"Why?"

Loli thought for a moment. Why _did_ she stay?

"I guess that… in part it was the way I feel about him," she began softly. "But another part of me wanted to say yes, just because I was so damn tired of saying no to _everything_. And now I'm worried that I only did it to prove to myself that I could. That I _would_," she continued.

"Could you see yourself spending the rest of your life with him?" her mother asked her carefully. Loli nodded. "Oh, sweetheart…" she said softly, shifting over to the couch. She pulled her daughter into her arms, running her hands through her long, scarlet curls. The same curls that she herself had pinned atop her head.

Madison Gardiner was no fool. She knew that her daughter had feelings for the fine young gentleman that owned the beautiful estate she was currently staying in. And she liked him. He was definitely very attractive, clever, and polite, and whilst he seemed very reserved and haughty in company, she hadn't missed the adoring glances that he sent to her daughter. He was very clearly in love with her, that much was evident.

She wondered, and not for the first time, if things would have been different if her beautiful, _stubborn_ daughter had never left Paris all those years ago. Or maybe, if she had been more of a mother to her, a serious, grown up relationship wouldn't be involving so many tears.

"Do you love him?" Madison questioned her daughter quietly. She gave a soft laugh.

"I might. But I've never _been_ in love before, so I can't be sure," she confessed.

"Are you sleeping with him?" Madison questioned suddenly. Loli tensed up instantly. "You are, I knew it," she said sadly.

"Mum, it's… you don't have anything to be worried about, I swear," Loli replied firmly, sitting up.

"I thought you were going to talk to me before you slept with anyone," she responded. Loli sighed, and ran a hand through her hair.

"I know. And I _wanted_ to talk to you, I really did Mum, but things were so crazy, and I didn't want to talk to you about it on the phone," she replied honestly. Madison tried not to look too disappointed.

"Well?" she demanded. Loli's eyes widened.

"What, did you want me to give you a play-by-play recount?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm your mother. I deserve one," she responded, but her teasing smile was giving her away. Loli laughed, and rolled her eyes. "But I still want you to tell me about it. Talk to me, sweetheart, so I can pretend that you're still my little girl," she requested.

"I'll _always_ be your little girl, Mum," she sighed. "I don't really know… what to say," she confessed.

"Only tell me what you're comfortable telling me about," Madison urged her. Loli took a deep breath, and raised her knees under her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"We were just having dinner, about a month after I came to Pemberley. It had been a really nice evening, we'd taken a long walk around the grounds at sunset, and we came into the house," she began. "And… well, we just walked up the stairs, and he started walking to his room, and before I knew it, I was following him," she shrugged. "He didn't say anything, he looked a bit surprised, and he just held the door open for me, kind of like he didn't know if I wanted to come in or not," she continued. Madison nodded, taking in the information given. "And… I did go in. It was about two months ago, I guess. And I've slept in his room ever since," she finished quietly.

"Do you regret it?"

"No."

"He wasn't… rough with you, was he?"

"No. I think he knew that it was my first time. I didn't even tell him, but he seemed to know."

"And did you… enjoy it?"

"Am I a human being?"

"I take that as a yes, then?"

"Oh, look at the weather. What a pretty night."

"So, change of topic?"

"I think so."

"Moon?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad that you told me."

"I'm glad that you listened."

Madison smiled down at her little girl, and brushed her hair back.

"At the moment, darling, you don't know how you feel," she began softly. "But that's going to change. And when it does, you're going to be glad that you stayed at Pemberley," she assured her. Loli smiled softly.

"I think you're right," she sighed.

"So what are you going to do? Talk to him?" she questioned.

"I think… I'm going to listen," she said firmly, rising to her feet. "Thanks Mum. It's good to have you around," she added, pressing a soft kiss to the elder woman's forehead, before she slipped out of the study.

Madison smiled at the image of her retreating daughter. She was happy, she just didn't know it yet.

**A/N: I liked some parts of this chapter, I thought they were quite cute. And for the record, Eve isn't me. Jane Austen named a character after herself in P&P, and another in Emma, so I figured it could be fun, and I got the idea for biblical names from my family, because four kids in my family all have biblical names, and I thought something short and cute would fit for Eve. Please review, and remember to check out my author's page and vote for the story you want me to write next!**


	38. Black Holes and Revelations

**A/N: I'm kind of getting a bit bored of this story now :S but I promise to stick it out, however, I didn't like this chapter, it all seemed too cliché. The twist with Darcy's father was always going to be there, and I was going to make it a much bigger thing, I still might, but for the time being, it is as it stands. **

Loli pushed open the bedroom door quietly, and slipped into the room. The only light was an eerie blue glow coming from the window, covering the room in a tranquil sort of atmosphere that gave her courage.

He wasn't asleep, but lying awake in bed, staring at the top of the canopy on the four poster bed. She silently undressed, and pulled on one of his shirts and a pair of her own boylegs, sliding into bed beside him. She could feel that he wasn't in a talking mood, and that perhaps he was a bit annoyed at her, but nevertheless he instantly pulled her towards his chest, and slipped one hand beneath the fabric of her shirt, resting on the base of her spine.

"Have I upset you?" she asked quietly. He shook his head. "You don't talk much, you know," she added. He shrugged.

"Sometimes I do," he replied.

"It took me a while to realise, because you'd change the topic, and you've gotten so good at avoiding it that I hardly ever notice," she began. "And then I realised that at best, you'd _reluctantly_ tell me about your mother, and I knew that it must hurt. Because you loved her so much, and now she's gone," she continued. He nodded, and turned his head away slightly, tracing small circles with his thumb on the skin of the small of her back. She ignored the shivers running through her body at his touch, and pressed on. "And I wondered why you hardly ever spoke about it, and then I realised that it wasn't because you didn't like talking about your _mother_," she stated, "it was because you don't like talking about your _father_," she finished softly.

"I've told you about him before," he snapped, before turning back to her. He moved his hand on the small of her back up her spine, and placed the other on her cheek, pressing his lips against hers insistently. She pulled away.

"Stop it. You can't keep on avoiding this – kissing me doesn't make problems go away," she said sharply.

"My father is dead. That's all you need to know," he snapped angrily. "You don't even know where your father _is_, and yet we don't talk about _him_," he added coolly. Loli sat up, trying not to let her temper get away with her. If he wanted to act like the child she would let him. It was about time she acted like the adult.

"Whit, I want to love you _and_ know you. And sometimes I feel like you're a complete stranger to me," she began quietly. "We rushed into this. I'm not saying that I regret it – I'm saying that what we have will burn out and _die_ if we can't even talk," she continued, trying to keep her voice level, even. "And you keep pushing me away! You don't even _realise_ that you're doing it, but we didn't enter this relationship on even terms – it became so serious so fast, and whilst _you_ feel like you know me, that you love me, I can't say the same about you," she confessed, wiping her face. She had been crying so much lately, and why? Because of him!

"I've done nothing but welcome you into my life, Lolita. I _don't_ push you away. If anything, you resist me whenever you can," he said coolly, he too sitting up.

"Whit, I stayed because I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay with you," she said quietly, but her voice was not wavering. "And I was so scared that it was only to prove to myself that I _could_ do something without thinking entirely of myself, but then I realised that – that I care for you more than I ever even realised, and maybe it _is_ love, but I just don't know!" she continued, her voice growing slightly strained.

"So you threw away your virginity, not even knowing if I'm the one that you want," he stated quietly, severely, staring out the window with a frown on his lips.

"Can't you hear what I'm saying?" she questioned angrily. "Why do you need one stupid word? I can't even _describe_ the way I feel! But all I want is _you_! I walked out of my life for _you_! I can't even talk to my friends, my colleges, I can't go for a walk in the middle of London because I made a sacrifice for _you_, and one that I was prepared to make!" she cried insistently. He said nothing, but his eyes seemed to be sparkling more than usual, and it certainly wasn't with tears of joy. "I slept with you because it was what _I_ wanted, and even though I don't know everything I want to know about you, I knew enough to tell that if this feeling is love, then I love you more than _anyone_ else in the world!" she said finally, hoping desperately that he would turn around, face her, _talk_ to her.

"My father has nothing to do with this. I told you, he was a good man, that had trouble showing his feelings," he snapped quietly, still not facing her. "He was _always_ there for me in his own way – he loved me, and he wanted what was best for me," he continued coolly.

"Are you lying to me?" she questioned softly. He shook his head.

"I _don't_ lie, Lolita," he replied harshly.

"But you aren't telling me the whole truth," she stated.

"Why is this even an issue?" he questioned pointedly. "Why don't we talk about how your father continuously abandons you? How it took you almost twenty-two years to grow up, because he left you stuck in your childhood with no way to escape?" he continued angrily.

"Because if you ask me _anything_ about my past, I'll tell you," she stated firmly. "But you keep on hiding things, and I _need_ to know about them, I _need_ to know you, so that I can feel like I made this leap for a reason," she said, her voice still not wavering, waiting for him to turn around, to face her.

"Why did he leave you?" he asked, after a long pause. His tone will still cold.

"Because he was scared to be my father. He was scared of responsibility," she stated calmly.

"Why do you wear Sweet Lolita?"

"I like standing in a city of people, knowing that I'm different from them," she answered. "It's not for attention, it's not for recognition, it's because _I_ like it," she informed him.

"Why did you date your Professor?" he continued.

"He was smart, and mature. He balanced me," she replied.

"Why didn't you sleep with him?"

"Because I wanted more than just balance."

"Why –"

"Whit, you can ask me a million and one questions, but I only want to know _one_ thing," she said tiredly. "_Why_ can't you tell me about your father?" she questioned softly.

"What do you want, Lolita?" he asked with both pain and anger. "What do you want me to say? That I can't remember my own _father_ ever holding me? That no matter _what_ I did, it was never quite good enough for him? That I _hated_ him, and that I still loved that stupid son of a bitch, no matter what he did to me?" he questioned, sliding quickly out of bed, and moving with nervous energy, running hands through his hair and letting hot, angry tears spill from his eyes. He looked furious, quickly pulling off his shirt. "_There_. Now what the _hell_ do you think that is?" he questioned, pointing to his back.

Loli's eyes raked over his skin, searching. Even in the dim blue light she could see them. They weren't very big, small, pale, smoothed over lines, tinged pink around the edges. They all looked deep, but not too noticeable. She passed her fingers of them and winced.

"What was it?" she asked softly.

"A belt."

"_Why_?" she asked, trying not to cry at the weathered, twisted skin. It didn't take away from his beauty at all, in fact, made him… stronger.

"Because I had my mother's eyes, and she loved _me_ more than she ever loved him," he spat. "When she died, so did he. And the only parts of him left on this earth were made of anger, and hatred, and bitterness, and I stopped being his son. I was just a constant reminder of what he had lost," he said angrily. "And I swore to God that I would never, _never_ be like him – but everything he was, everything he _is_, that's a part of _me_," he finished, his voice cool and pointed.

"No, Whit, it's not," she said firmly, wrapping her arms around him from behind, pressing her cheek against the old, fading scars, her tears running over them.

"He loved her, and she loved him. But she – she loved me more! It wasn't my _fault_!" he swore bitterly, lowering his head, supporting it with his hands. "I _had_ to raise Gigi by myself. She looked _just_ like her, what if he did the same to her?" he questioned.

"You did the right thing," she said softly, reassuringly.

"He was my _father_. Why did he do that?" he questioned angrily.

"Because he was sad. Sadness does things to people," she replied.

"But he was a _good_ man, Lolita. He knew that it was wrong, and he would always smile when I hit him back. He _wanted_ to hurt," he assured her. "He just wanted more pain to kill the rest of him off. But he was a _good_ person," he swore.

"Whit, maybe he was. But hurting you was wrong, and you can never justify it," she said softly. A tear off her cheek, and down his spine.

"He did it to me six times. He was always stupidly drunk, and after he had hit me, he would collapse on the floor and cry himself to sleep," he stated quietly. "And so I went to Matlock, and took Gigi with me, and – and he _died_ before I ever got to talk to him about it," he continued angrily. "What if I'm just like him? What if –"

"You aren't, Whit," she said softly, running her hands over his arms. "You only get angry when someone you care for could be in danger. Don't you think I haven't noticed?" she questioned. "Sure, you get annoyed, and snappy when there's something that you don't want to talk about, or when I'm being a pain in the neck, but the only times I've ever _really_ seen you angry is when you think I might get hurt," she stated.

He said nothing, but she could tell that he was crying. And why shouldn't he? He had been through a lot, and he had never told anyone about it. It had been bottled up inside for years.

"W – what if, when we have children, you love them more than me?" he asked her quietly. She shook her head against his skin.

"I would love them differently to you. Equally, but differently," she replied.

"But what if – the same thing happens, you die, and I – I –"

"You would _never_ do what your father did, Whit," she stated calmly. "I know that for a fact. And _if_ we have children, we'd take every precaution necessary so that I _won't_ die. It's a complication, but not a death sentence," she added.

"Do you _want_ children?" she heard him question softly. She said nothing for a little while.

"One day, maybe. But only _ever_ with you," she replied. He moved, adjusting their positions until they were both lying back on the bed, his head resting on her shoulder as they both looked up to the canopy of the four poster bed, hands and fingers entwined.

"Do you think that this was all too soon?" he asked her, after a little while.

"Maybe," she replied. "I used to think that it was. But I guess now… Whit, I feel like making some sort of metaphor," she said decidedly. He gave a soft laugh. "Okay, so I've been walking across a tightrope my whole life, right?" she began.

"In one of those sequined leotards?" he asked teasingly.

"No, mine is pink with bows, of course," she replied playfully. "And I used to _think_ that I had all the freedom in the world walking across it, because I knew that if I fell, I'd be able to fix myself. And if I died when I fell, I wasn't bothered. I _thought_ that. But in reality, I was still walking carefully, just lying to myself, right?" she stated. He nodded. "And then you came along, and shook the rope. And I got angry at you, because you kept on shaking it, and changing everything in my life," she continued. He frowned.

"Well, I can say already that I'm not particularly fond of this metaphor," he commented. She laughed.

"The thing was, I spent so much time focusing on how angry I was that you were shaking the rope, and I didn't even realise that you'd put one of those safety nets, or maybe a giant trampoline underneath me," she explained. "And _yes_, you wanted me to fall, but you only wanted me to fall so that I would get off the rope, and leave the whole bloody circus," she finished.

"In a very weird and twisted way, I think that I understood that metaphor," he said disbelievingly.

"I should have been a poet," she replied smugly. "So the thing is, by the end of it, I jumped off the rope myself, and falling was the most scary thing I've ever experienced, but now I'm safe, because you had the net there the whole time," she added, tilting her head, and meeting his pale grey eyes.

"Are you ready to make another jump?" he questioned softly. She nodded.

"Only if you put it in a circus metaphor," she replied. He chuckled, and shook his head.

"Sorry, I'm not that talented," he replied, shifting so that he could meet her eyes on an even level.

"But does this jump involve me saying three little words that you say to me constantly?" she questioned quietly. He bit his lip softly. "Like, 'I love you, Whit Darcy'?" she continued.

"Was that just an example, or do you really love me?" he asked curiously, frowning slightly.

"That was the real thing," she smiled.

"I'm going to be completely arrogant right now, and say that I've known that you love me for a while now, but it took you longer to figure it out," he responded cheekily. "But hearing you say it is… very important to me," he added on a more serious note, Loli's eyes sparkling with happiness that she'd never even known she could feel.

"So technically, it wasn't much of a leap," she conceded. He chuckled.

"The leap I was thinking of was a little different," he replied, intertwining their fingers together. "Lolita Moonbeam Grace Starchild Gardiner – I love you, very, _very_ much," he began.

"Oh dear. You're going to propose, aren't you?" she asked, grinning slightly.

"Am I that obvious?" he asked, wincing slightly.

"Incredibly so," she responded cheekily. "Get along with it then, but nothing fancy, say it outright, and just for the record, I do _not_ expect a ring, considering the diamond ring in the jewellery box you gave me," she added.

"Of course I'm getting you a ring. Well, it's a family heirloom thing, so I didn't actually have to pay for it," he added.

"Is it flashy and all of that? Because I _really_ don't want flashy," she whined. He rolled his eyes.

"If you let me go get it, I can go down on one knee, you know," he added.

"Nope. I'm not into clichés, you can do it right here, right now," she replied firmly, fighting a grin.

"You aren't even letting me! You're quizzing me about the ring!" he exclaimed.

"Oh yeah. What does it look like?" she questioned. He looked thoughtful.

"I have a suspicion that your ideal engagement ring comes out of a cereal box, and can be eaten, so I guess that it doesn't really comply to your idea of perfection," he replied.

"My idea of perfection is you, so unless it's some sort of cameo thing of you on a ring…" she trailed off, grinning.

"It's lovely. Really," he assured her.

"Whit, I don't give a damn about a ring, you know," she reminded him.

"We haven't even gotten up to the ring yet, because you haven't let me propose!" he exclaimed. She rolled her eyes.

"Can I?" she asked hopefully.

"Can you what?"

"Propose, stupid-head," she replied.

"I don't know which is more alarming. The fact that _you_ want to propose to _me_, or the fact that you called me a 'stupid-head'," he muttered doubtfully.

"Well? Can I do it?" she questioned.

"No. Marry me?" he said finally. She rolled her eyes.

"You only said it so that I wouldn't beat you to it," she objected. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"No I didn't, I said it because I've wanted to say it since you got out of your car at Netherfield," he replied.

"Really? Is that why you pushed me over?" she asked curiously. He rolled his eyes.

"I didn't push you over, you stopped, and I ran into you. Are you going to give me an answer or not?" he questioned.

"Well of _course_ it's a yes, and you did _too_ push me over," she replied.

"I'm going to ignore this argument we're having on the sidelines and kiss you, okay?" he stated, pressing his lips against hers before she could get another word in.

"So how are we going to do this?" she asked, when they parted a few moments later.

"Well what were you thinking of?" he questioned. She looked thoughtful.

"Well, you, me and a priest, nothing fancy," she shrugged. He laughed softly.

"How about you, me, a priest, Gigi, Callum and your family?" he offered. She sighed. "Oh, and I demand that you wear a dress. It doesn't have to be a white one, but I'd prefer it, and I'm not getting married in jeans," he added.

"Do you even _own_ jeans?" she asked doubtfully.

"No."

"Didn't think so. Okay, so how about the priest wears a dress, and I wear a suit?" she offered cheekily. He rolled his eyes.

"No. _You_ can wear the dress, and I'll wear a suit. It won't be terribly fancy, but I'm wearing one," he said firmly. "We don't have to get married in a church, by the way," he added.

"I was going to suggest Pemberley," she replied. He smiled.

"I'd like that. The weather report says that Friday will be reasonably warm for this time of year," he added.

"Friday could work, Mum, Edgar and the kids head back on Monday afternoon," she commented. "What about everyone else though? Joan, Cale, Chandra, Richard, Sora? They'd want to be here, you know," she added seriously.

"I can arrange all of that. Cale and Richard are in London, so I can have them come over for the weekend, I'd have to get flights Joan and Chandra, that's not too much of an issue," he replied. "Where does Sora live?" he questioned.

"Tokyo. She's one of my best friends, in fact, she probably _is_ my best friend, she'd want to be here," she said. He smiled softly, and pushed a strand of hair back from her face.

"Of course. We'll contact everyone tomorrow, and I'll make arrangements to fly them in as soon as possible," he promised. "What about a honeymoon? Was there anywhere that you wanted to go?" he questioned. She rolled her eyes.

"You know very well that we can't exactly go anywhere right now," she reminded him. "I'd like to stay here for a little while, and then we could go back to London," she suggested. He released a little groan of irritation.

"It's dangerous," he reminded her.

"We can do this. We'll have plenty of security, and if I stay with you then James won't hurt me – he knows that you're too close to the court case, _and_ you made a restraining order," she reminded him.

"You realise that if we go back to London, we can't hide. We have to throw ourselves back into society, we'd still be in danger," he pointed out. She nodded. "We'd have to go to parties, balls, premiers and charity auctions, we'd both be in the spotlight," he added.

"I don't mind," she replied. "I'm sick of hiding. And we'd need to go back soon anyway, for the court case," she pointed out. He nodded slowly.

"Well then… I guess we can move right into the townhouse, it's only a few minutes from work," he continued. She frowned slightly.

"What's wrong with my apartment?" she questioned. He raised an eyebrow.

"It's not even big enough for _you_, let alone me. I have a house in London already," he rationalised. She rolled her eyes.

"But I decorated my apartment so nice…" she muttered.

"You can decorate the townhouse if you want, but not too many bows," he offered. She smiled slightly.

"I guess we'll work something out," she muttered, intertwining their fingers, and staring at his hands in wonder.

"You don't think that we're rushing into this, do you?" he questioned quietly. She smiled.

"Maybe we are, but this is what we both want," she replied.

"Lolita?"

"Yeah?"

"We're getting married on Friday."

"I know."

"You're going to be Lolita Darcy."

"_Or_ I could be Lolita Starchild Gardiner Darcy," she offered cheekily. He rolled his eyes. "Alright, that was a joke. Of course I'll take your name, if you want," she said, more seriously.

"I'd like that," he smiled in return.

"I love you," she whispered softly, shifting over, and kissing his cheek. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her closer to him. He murmured a few words of the same meaning as her declaration, and watched as her eyelids fluttered to a close, her head resting on his chest.

She listened to his heartbeat, its rhythm reverberating through her body until she drifted off into sleep.

**A/N: Bah, told you, really cliché and lovey-dovey. And **_**maybe**_** I sped things up a bit, but it's only so that I can finish this story and have time to concentrate on my studies. I think my next one will be smaller, and I won't be updating so often, but I'll still be writing, it's good practise :D So, please review, and check out my author's page to vote for the next story you want to read, and gain my ever lasting love and affection :D**


	39. Sora soars in

**A/N: God, I'm becoming so horrible about updating! Sorry about that, but my exams have just started and I've been studying desperately for them :S But I've only got four more now, English Advanced, English Extension, Music Practical and French, so hopefully I'll have some more time to update :D So I'm moving fairly quickly over the next few chapters, because we aren't quite in the home stretch. And I **_**know**_** that my writing is reflecting that I'm getting a bit bored of this story, but I'll keep on trying to improve :D Thank you all for reading it, and for sticking with me, hopefully I can ride this one out and have more time for my studies :D**

Sora was in a bad mood. A _really_ bad mood.

First of all, her supposed best friend called her in the middle of the night, blabbering on about her suddenly perfect life with her boringly perfect boyfriend, or rather, _fiancée_, practically squealing with excitement (which was probably an overstatement, now that she thought over it, because unless it was covered with lace, Loli very rarely squealed about _anything_), because _surprise_, they were getting married.

From a young age, Sora had been a pessimist. So when she heard that Loli and her boyfriend of three months, obsession for almost six, were going to tie the knot, she couldn't help but wonder how long it was going to last. Sure, Loli was almost certainly in love with the man, it was obvious from the way she spoke about him, but from Sora's understanding, he was much older than her, and had some sort of buried obsession with controlling the people around him. She _knew_ Loli extremely well, it wasn't like her to fall for someone so hard and so fast. And marriage? The Loli that _she_ knew had never even considered it, but all of a sudden she was a bride-to-be, with barely a week before she was shackled for life.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Loli," she had said sternly, or as sternly as she could whilst she was half asleep.

"To be perfectly honest, Sora, I don't think I do. But I've never been happier," she had replied, sounding far too cheerful to really be the annoyingly angsty girl that had so reluctantly left Tokyo six months ago.

But apparently this 'Whit Darcy' was completely and totally loaded, and had no issue paying for a first class return ticket to England, and had a giant house with plenty of room for her to stay, so she wasn't at all reluctant to come, even at such short notice. Because as crazy and irrational as the whole plan sounded, her best friend was getting married, and she wanted to be there for her.

So, that meant packing her things and getting on the first flight available. She put in for some leave at work, and the very next day she was at the airport, with her Hello Kitty suitcases being processed, her journey underway. First class was a dream come true, she was pampered and fawned over for hours and hours, she managed to get plenty of sleep (she'd never had an issue with sleeping on a plane or adjusting to different time zones, jet lag never really caught up with her. She supposed she was lucky in that respect), so arrived in London well rested and refreshed. Understandably she couldn't be picked up from the airport by Loli, something about her being stalked by some obsessive killer, but she was 'escorted' to 'Pemberley Manor' (no kidding, it was a friggen manor. Why did Loli not inform her that she was about to become partial owner of a _manor_?) by an older, new-age, sensitive Professor-looking Englishman, 'Clarkson', and whilst he offered little to no conversation, he wasn't half bad to look at. Even if he could probably be her father, so perhaps Loli's liking for older men had rubbed off on her.

"So what's this 'Darcy' guy like?" she asked curiously, glancing at him as he drove the car in silence. He was staring straight ahead, in determination.

"Clever, but stupidly loyal," he replied, after a pause. "He never does things by halves. And I have a suspicion that if anyone laid a hand on Miss Gardiner, he would probably murder them," he added.

"Hmm. You're annoyed at him," she noted. He rolled his dark eyes.

"Yes, I suppose," he confirmed.

"Why?" she questioned, watching his face for any sort of reaction. He looked thoughtful.

"Let's just say that I have issues with the relationship. I don't feel that their loyalties are in the places that they should be," he answered, a short while later. He looked rather strained, as if his answer had been difficult for himself to determine.

"Care to elaborate?"

"No."

"Good then. Because I just _love_ awkward silences," she snapped, crossing her arms, and glaring out the window. She saw him raise an eyebrow out of the corner of her eye.

"You've spent too much time with Miss Gardiner. That seemed the exact kind of thing that she would do," he threw at her. She rolled her eyes.

"Are you kidding? When I met Loli she had a wicked sense of humour, but hardly ever said a word. She was the most interesting person you could ever find, _if_ you managed to talk to her. If anything, _she_ learnt this off _me_," she countered.

"Really? _She_ was reserved?" he exclaimed quietly, as if it were a huge surprise to him.

"Partially. She was selective with who she acted casually with, still really outgoing, but she had a lot of issues with people. I wouldn't call it reserve, just… well, complete hatred of the human race, perhaps," she responded. "She had – _has_ a lot of trust issues. She trusts some people too quickly, and others not at all, and she gets who she _should_ be trusting mixed up with people she _shouldn't_, and so as a result, she tries not to trust _anyone_," she elaborated. He nodded thoughtfully.

"What's her family like?" he questioned curiously. Sora shrugged.

"Joan is far too nice. _And_ she looks like a goddess. I've only met the triplets once, I didn't mind Mya, but the other two were bitches," she explained. "Her Mum is lovely, and her stepfather is twenty-times the man that her dad is, because Shamus Starchild is _useless_, and Fanny is a nightmare," she continued. "Seriously. All she wants is to marry her kids off to rich men, she's a psychopath. She'd have a field day if she knew that Loli was living with a billionaire," she added.

"So in your opinion, Miss Gardiner isn't out for Darcy's money?" he questioned sharply.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" she exclaimed. "You must have the wrong girl. Loli? She's not interested in money. She'd either spend it on cupcakes, forget that she _has_ it, or give it to someone else so she doesn't have to fill out tax forms. She's just not interested in it," she explained. "Her stepmother is determined to set her up with a rich doormat, but Loli's never been interested in it. She wants someone who makes her feel happy. That's all she's ever wanted," she added. Clarkson looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps you know her better than I do," he said finally. Sora snorted in sarcastic laughter.

"I wonder why," she muttered. "Listen, all you need to know about Loli, is that she's got a million and one layers, like a giant onion. Don't try and work her out, she spent years over complicating herself in her angsty teen years. Just let her be. She knows how to look after herself," she explained. "You English certainly like your green," she commented, when Clarkson didn't reply, as she stared out onto the frosty fields of emerald grass. "How far away are we?" she questioned.

"This is all part of the Pemberley grounds. You won't be able to see the house for another half a mile," he answered.

"How rich _is_ this guy?" she exclaimed.

"He's not the richest man in the world, but he's on the top 50 list," he answered calmly.

"Does he have a brother, or a cousin, something like that?" she questioned hopefully.

"Stay away from Richard. He's a womaniser," he advised. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, what men _should_ I steer towards?" she retorted, crossing her arms.

"The ones that live in the same country as you, not the ones that you probably aren't going to see again after this week," he answered.

"I don't know, England is interesting. Perhaps I might stay here," she shrugged. "I mean, I'd get to see Loli, and that girl is always a laugh and a half," she added. Clarkson shook his head incredulously.

"Where on _earth_ did you pick up all of those English phrases?" he questioned. "You've got an understanding of Western culture that very few Asians have," he added. She gave another simple shrug.

"It's called TV. You should look into it sometime," she advised, turning her gaze back out to the windows. There were a lot of trees, and hills. After spending several years in Tokyo, trees seemed foreign and unfamiliar to her.

And then she saw it.

She peered through the iron gates that they had stopped in front of whilst Clarkson spoke on the intercom, taking in the oak-lined gravel path, the giant lake, and the incredible size of the estate. It was like a palace, but it looked too elegant and understated for that, no, it was _definitely_ a manor. She could hardly believe that she was going to be _staying_ there, that her best friend called it _home_. It was incredible.

The gates opened and Clarkson drove through, his permanent scowl perfectly intact. Sora's eyes widened as they drove closer up the gravel path, taking in the hundreds of windows, the grand steps and marble pillars, everything was stunningly elegant, but not in a gaudy, over-the-top way. He stopped the car just in front of the large staircase leading up to the front door, and they got out, her jaw dropping. It was gorgeous.

"Sora!" she heard a cry, and one of the heavy doors were pushed open, and something with a high speed to break the sound barrier and long scarlet hair came rushing towards her. She was pulled into a tight hug before she knew what had happened, the two of them laughing, and almost crying.

"You stupid bitch, dragging me across the planet like this," Sora laughed, no bitterness in her voice. She was incredibly glad to see Loli.

"I missed you saying things like that," she sighed happily in response

"Are we going to hug all day, or actually go inside and check out this Kingdom?" she questioned teasingly. "Where's the Prince of this joint?"

"I _assume_ you mean Whit, and he's in his study," she answered, glancing over at Clarkson, who was leaning against the hood of the car with a look of distaste across his face.

"He _studies_? For what, being a multi-billionaire?" she questioned incredulously. Loli shook her head.

"He works from there. He's doing a web conference, something to do with Darcy Engineering," she explained. "That doesn't matter though, because now I get to show you Pemberley myself!" she added, with a grin.

"Does Clarkson get bags?" Sora asked curiously, glancing back at the silent body guard.

"Whatever you do, _don't_ ask him," Loli warned quietly, before turning over to the man. "Thanks for bringing me Sora," she thanked him, with a smile on her face. Clarkson scowled.

"I'm not a babysitter. You want to have some sort of house party? Fine. But not at my expense," he snapped. "Get back in the house. You never know who's watching, and whilst a dead artist is nothing new, your boss would kill me," he added curtly. "Sorry – your _fiancée_," he corrected himself, practically spitting his words out. Loli placed her hands on her hips, and narrowed her gaze.

"What the hell is your problem? You've been treating me like dirt ever since I came to Pemberley!" she snapped in retort. He rolled his eyes, as if he wanted to be anywhere else but in her presence.

"Let's just say that I don't like selfish little brats complicating my job," he sneered. Loli gave an exasperated growl of irritation.

"Fine then. You want me to leave? Say the word," she replied coolly, meeting his steely gaze. He held it for almost a full minute, before turning away, back to the car, where one of the young boys who cared for the horses was retrieving Sora's bags.

"You'll pardon me if I don't dress for the wedding, I hope," he drawled sarcastically, opening the car door as the boy got the last of the bags, and slammed the boot shut.

"I wouldn't care if you turned up in a potato sack, just as long as you stop pissing off Whit. He's one step away from snapping you in half," she countered, tossing back her mane of fiery red hair.

"So I can piss your soon to be husband off, but you don't give a damn about yourself," he mused sarcastically, sliding into the front seat. "It's good to see that you're so self-sacrificing. We'll see how long _this_ lie lasts," he snapped coldly, slamming the door shut, turning on the engine, and pulling the car back, before turning out the same direction that he came in.

"Well. He's friendly, isn't he?" commented Sora as they watched him leave. "Little ray of fucking sunshine."

"He's been acting really weirdly since I came to Pemberley. He _really_ can't stand me anymore, but we used to get along quite well," she said, her tone suggesting extreme confusion, but not hurt or personal injury.

"So he's a shit. Come on, I _have_ to see this place," she said, grinning ear from ear. Suddenly her long weekend off seemed like it was going to be _quite_ enjoyable.

~ * ~

Loli didn't say much as they walked up the staircase to the front doors, her mind spinning. What was _wrong_ with Clarkson? He had been acting like she had personally insulted him, like she was the bane of his existence, when she had done nothing! Did he blame her for the bomb going off in the street? He couldn't, because when she called him after the attack, just before he was going to go into her apartment and get her belongings, he seemed fine. Had the incredible masses of pink in her apartment shocked him into repulsion?

But that couldn't be it, she realised, because he had been in there before, making sure that it was secure. He had commented on her collection of My Little Ponies, chuckled at her smiling couch, and even drank a cup of coffee with her. So why was he acting so strangely? Was it something to do with Wickham? Something that Darcy wasn't telling her?

"Hell_ooooo_!"

Sora's voice startled her from her musings. She glanced up at the familiar face of her friend, and pasted her best smile on.

"Sorry about that, I was just wondering where to start the tour," she muttered. Sora snorted.

"Yeah. Right. I've known you too long, girl," she retorted. "So is this because that security guard suddenly hates you, or because you're dreading the upcoming nuptials?" she questioned curiously. Loli shook her head.

"Clarkson. I just can't get my head around it," she explained, leading her friend through the large front doors.

"Yeah, well, he's a guy. Guy's are – _oh my God_!" she cried, her eyes widening into saucers as she stepped into the front entrance hall. "_Shit_. This is your _home_?" she questioned incredulously, gazing around in wonder.

"It's Darcy's home. Not mine," she corrected. Sora rolled her eyes, and snorted.

"Yeah, but you're getting hitched, this comes with the package," she pointed out.

"No, it doesn't. It'll still be Whit's, and as much as I love it here, and as much as it feels like home to me, it belongs to _him_, and I can't take that away," she explained, shrugging, but it was lost on Sora, who was still looking around in complete awe, her jaw dragging over the marble floors.

"And you _rejected_ this guy once before?" she questioned doubtfully. Loli laughed.

"Call me weird, but personality rates higher than money on my scale," she countered.

"That's not saying much. The top of your scale is being able to name every single pokemon in existence, and knowing all the words to the Sailor Moon theme song," she reminded her. "What do you _do_ in a place this big?" she questioned, still walking around in an absent-minded circle, gazing up at the French Provincial style architraves adoring the high ceiling.

"Well of course there's always scrabble. And we can play a _massive_ game of twister in this front room," she replied nonchalantly, but her eyes twinkled with playfulness.

"Do you have maids? And butlers?" she asked excitedly.

"Several. I told Whit to get off his backside and cook his own dinner, but apparently he doesn't like me telling him to do that," she responded cheekily. "Which is quite funny, really, when you think about it, because he's always complaining about how _I_'m immature, and he doesn't even make his own bed," she added, fighting laughter.

"The irony is killing me," she retorted, taking in the enormous chandelier. "Where does that go?" she asked, pointing over to her left.

"That's where the kitchens and dining rooms are, and where all the staff who stay here live," she answered.

"And there?" she questioned, pointing to the right.

"Uh, sun-room, drawing room, music room, billiards room, downstairs bathroom, library, and Darcy's study," she answered, listing the rooms from memory.

"What's through that big door behind the stairs? Is there _more_ of this place?"

"The gym, indoor swimming pool, and courtyard. I don't know how to turn the heating on in the pool though, so I haven't gone in it," she shrugged.

"And up the stairs?"

"The bedrooms. Darcy and mine, the guest rooms, all the bedrooms have their own bathrooms, some parlours, the nursery, Gigi's room, a few more sitting rooms, my 'office', thingo," she replied. "Oh, and you can access the second floor of the library from up there too," she added.

"And up the next floor?" she continued to probe, testing her friend's memory.

"The gallery, museum, and school rooms," she answered almost immediately.

"And the next one?"

"The attic. Mind you, the attic is about the same size as my apartment building, and it has a full kitchen, several bathrooms, bedrooms, dining rooms, and a ballroom, but it's still called the attic for some reason," she answered, frowning slightly at the thought.

"Wow. Shit girl, you memorised this place top to bottom," Sora commented, raising an eyebrow. "_Why_? Are you trying to play the Stepford wife or something?" she questioned accusingly. Loli snorted, and rolled her eyes.

"You _know_ how curious I am," she responded. "I spend half of my time exploring this place. It's _massive_, I don't know how he can live in a place like this," she said softly, staring around the enormous entrance room, which could easily fit several Olympic swimming pools. "I mean, there's over twenty bedrooms, at _least_ a dozen sitting rooms, probably way more, a friggen _gallery_, who _owns_ this kind of stuff?" she questioned, sighing.

"You're used to living in shoeboxes. He's _used_ to this," Sora replied. "Come on then, show me this bloody castle! I feel like a Princess in a place like this!" she declared, grabbing her friend's arm, and quickly heading for the staircase.

It didn't take them long to go through the entire house. Sora was delighted with her bedroom, and clung to it possessively, sighing as she passed her hands over the silk duvet and delicate lace curtains. She was frightened by the widescreen LCD TV that seemed to leap out of the wall when she pressed a button on the remote, but determined that it had cable, and all grievances were forgotten. She feigned interest in the enormous, gorgeously decorated and fully stocked library, the work of generations, but seemed genuinely delighted by the pool and courtyard, although admittedly, the kitchens were her main pursuit.

Loli felt much lighter being able to talk to Sora. She had missed her terribly, and being able to discuss her rapidly changing life was something that she simply hadn't _had_ for the last few months. Of course she loved and adored Darcy, but she missed having a female around, someone her own age who she knew well. The maids were too terrified and well trained to talk to her, and Mrs Reynolds was more of a mentor than a shoulder to lean on, and there was only so much you could talk to your mother or your five year old sister about. She felt instantly better being able to talk to someone than she had since Darcy's rather unexpected proposal.

"So when do I get to meet this man of yours?" Sora asked curiously, as they settled in the library, sitting on the ladders that would slide across the bookshelves they towered over, taking turns to push each other down the length of the room.

"He works a lot. But he said that he'd be finished before this afternoon, because Richard and Chandra arrive at two, and Cale should be here tonight too," she answered. "Mum, Edgar and the kids are in the village, they wanted to find some nice clothes for the wedding before the others arrive," she added.

"What about Joan?" Sora asked, sliding down a few steps on the ladder, gripping the sides for support.

"I'm not sure when her plane gets in, but I'm expecting either later tonight, or early tomorrow," she replied, inspecting her nails curiously from her position of about ten feet from the floor, her bare feet resting on one of the steps of the ladder.

"Hows it going to work out with Cale and Joan? Do you reckon they're going to kill each other, or make mad, passionate love?" she questioned teasingly. Loli laughed at her terminology, and looked thoughtful.

"Honestly? I think that Cale messed up. He needed to grow a backbone," she commented. "I mean, Whit usually does what's best, but sometimes he can be insensitive, Cale shouldn't do whatever he says just because he said it, you know?" she added. Sora nodded, perusing the leather bound titles on the shelf behind her with a lack of interest. She didn't like reading that much, she preferred TV. "I'd be disappointed if Joan goes back to him, but I think that they love each other too much to just walk away," she shrugged.

"She's probably going to take him back. She's too forgiving for her own good," Sora replied, pushing her short, cropped back hair from her dark eyes with hot pink painted nails.

"Maybe. I hope that she at least tells him how she feels, but whatever happens, happens, I guess," she sighed. Sora looked at her friend thoughtfully.

"You've changed, you know," she commented. Loli smiled softly, and raised an eyebrow.

"For the better?" she questioned. Sora looked thoughtful.

"I dunno. Maybe," she answered. "But… you're much more calm. Mature. Like you've gained some sort of eternal wisdom, or something," she commented.

"I don't think I'm more mature, I think that I'm just… well, I think more, now," she replied, after a long pause. "I think about me, about Whit, and I realise that it's not just about me anymore, _he_ matters too," she added.

"Oh great. Now you're going all grown-up," scoffed Sora. "You aren't preggers, are you? That would explain all the maternal-fluffiness," she added questioningly. Loli laughed.

"Nah, I can't get pregnant unless I go on meds first, the Quack told me that years ago, remember?" she replied. "This is just your usual, straightforward fluffiness. No hormones involved," she declared.

"So why did you agree to marry this guy, if you didn't even think you were ready to live with him three months after you'd moved in here?" Sora questioned accusingly, her tone no longer light and playful. Loli said nothing for a little while.

She slid down the ladder, until she was back on her two feet. Sora did the same, standing before her with her jaw set firm. She couldn't understand her friend's logic, if there _was_ any logic to what she was doing.

"Because he was asking," she said simply, shrugging. Sora's jaw fell, and her eyes flashed.

"Because he was _asking_?" she repeated incredulously. "You're marrying him just because he asked you? Just because it's what _he_ wants?" she questioned angrily. Loli shrugged, her milky blue eyes bereft of the teasing playfulness that had been inhabiting them a moment before.

"_Yes_, because it's what he wants. I've been selfish my _whole_ life, and all he wants is a bit of paper and a ring to prove that I'm not leaving him," she answered. "He's been through a lot in life, and I know that a part of him is terrified that I'm going to leave, he thinks that I'm going to throw a tantrum and walk out or get killed, and if he needs some assurance that I _won't_, then I'm going to give it to him," she said decidedly. Sora shook her head in disbelief.

"You really _have_ changed," she accused. Loli sighed.

"Sora, I love him. I _love_ him. More than I can even understand," she stated. "And I want to spend the rest of my life with him - _don't_ doubt that," she assured her. "Is this rash? Yes. Is it too soon? Probably. But I want this, and so does he, and I'll be damned if I'm going to pass up a lifetime with such a wonderful person," she said, her voice steady and firm.

"You really love him?" Sora questioned, her gaze narrow and pointed, her tone questioning.

"More than Sailor Moon."

"Good God. It's the end of the world," she exclaimed dramatically. Loli laughed, her eyes shining again. "I'm glad for you, Loli-Chan," she said warmly, pulling her in for a hug.

"I'm glad for me too," she replied, sighing happily. "What's say we go and interrupt his work so you can meet him?" she suggested, as they pulled away.

"Ha! Exactly what I was thinking," Sora replied, grinning. "Lets go, I can't _wait_ to meet the guy that sobered up Lolita Starchild," she added slyly, pulling her friend out of the room.

"Lolita!" they heard a voice call when they stepped into the hallway. They followed the voice back into the front entrance, where a disgruntled and bothered looking Darcy stood, looking around, as if searching for something. "There you are! I've been looking –" he began, but his voice silenced when he saw Loli pull Sora out into the hall.

Darcy took in the unknown girl before him. She was short, shorter than Loli, with dark hair chopped into some sort of cropped black bob, and almost black eyes. She wore jeans and some sort of Japanese slogan covered hoodie, a ridiculous amount of plastic, neon coloured bracelets jingling on her wrist, beaten up converse with faces drawn on in black sharpie peering beneath the hem of her trousers.

"Sora Fu, at your service," she girl announced, stepping forwards, holding out her hand to shake his. He took it slowly, still trying to take in her appearance. "Loli's told me a lot about you, I feel like we're besties or something," she added. He nodded.

"Good to hear," he replied shortly. "Have you arranged her room?" he asked Lolita, who nodded.

"She said that she loved it, she may just have to move in with us," she grinned in response, her lips curved into an excited smile now that her friend was near. Darcy nodded again.

"Richard and Miss Lucas are to arrive this afternoon, I've reminded the staff the prepare their rooms, but you may wish to go over them before they arrive, in addition to Caleb's suite, and you stepsister," he said, his tone hinting at no emotion, it was just as blank and masked as it always was with strangers. "Mr Jacobs has prepared a menu for lunch and dinner, you may alter it to your satisfaction, and give him some suggestions for the wedding dinner," he added tonelessly. Sora doubtfully raised an eyebrow. "I have arranged for a modiste to come tomorrow afternoon to fit the dresses for Friday, so you need to have some idea of your preferences, because they won't be ready in time if you can't make a decision," he finished, as if reciting a to-do list.

"Is that all?" she asked, her tone hinting at some sort of biting sarcasm, irritation evident in her tone.

"If you have time, I would like to speak with you in my study during the course of the day, before the other guests arrive," he added, after a moment's thought. "Alone," he added meaningfully. "It was a pleasure, Miss Fu," he muttered shortly to Sora, nodding, before disappearing back to his study.

There was a long pause between the two girls.

"Well. That was interesting," Sora commented slowly, breaking the silence.

"He isn't always like this," Loli replied quickly. "Just around people he hasn't met before. He takes a while to get to know," she assured her. Sora met her eyes doubtfully.

"Yeah. I could really see the love, it was right before he practically _ordered_ you to go 'service' him in the study, and after he dictated your schedule for the next month," she snapped.

"It's not like that, Sora. He _really_ isn't like this normally, when you get to know him," she said. Sora simply snorted bitterly.

"He's a control freak. All he wants to do is dominate you," she argued.

"You don't know him! I'm telling you, he just doesn't get along with strangers!" she replied forcefully. "Don't judge him – I _already_ made that mistake, and it screwed me over completely. Just get to know him," she requested. Sora sighed angrily.

"I feel like you've been converted to some weird religion, and you're asking me to give it a shot, but I'm going to trust you, kay?" she replied. "But I'll smash him if he treats you like crap again," she added.

"Are you kidding? I'm going to give him a good right hook for that," she countered, with a grin. "Come on then, we'll grab some coats and I'll show you the grounds – screw his dinner menus," she said decidedly, grabbing her friends hand and pulling her up the marble staircase.

"That's the Loli I know!" Sora laughed, following her happily.

~ * ~

She had to admit, Loli was right. Upon further inspection, her Darcy character wasn't so bad. She watched him over lunch, and whilst he paid no attention to _her_, there didn't seem to be a moment were his intense gaze left Loli.

There were plenty little things that softened his character in her opinion, like how he pulled out his love's chair for her, and waited until she was seated properly before sitting down himself, how he made sure she was served first, and he too drank only juice, because she couldn't have too much alcohol, and he didn't want to make her feel left out. He watched her speak with extreme interest, remained completely attentive to her throughout the whole meal, took every opportunity to find some small way of touching her, and smiled softly whenever she glanced in his direction. Sora had to admit, the guy was still a social ignoramus, but he _was_ incredibly in love.

~ * ~

He almost kicked himself as he walked back to his study after practically shouting at Lolita and her friend. He felt like an idiot doing so, but to him it seemed like an instantaneous reaction when he was faced with a stranger.

Darcy sighed as he closed his study door, and leant against the hardwood surface. He knew he was being selfish, but he wished that he had never suggested that they invite people to the wedding; he wished that they could simply disappear to some exotic location, and be married away from the prying eyes of strangers and family members. He wanted nothing more than a few weeks tucked away in the middle of nowhere with his new wife, but until the Wickham ordeal was taken care of they couldn't even leave Pemberley without a full guard.

Not for the first time, he was angry with himself. He couldn't give her what he wanted to give her, all he could do was protect her from danger, danger that _he_ had put her in.

The other guests arrived that afternoon, along with Lolita's family, returned from their shopping trip. He smiled briefly, but his eyes were trained on his beautiful fiancée as she laughed happily with the arrival of her friends and family.

He decided then that perhaps having people there for them, on the most important day of their lives so far wouldn't be so bad.

But the moment that the court case was over, he was taking her to Sicily, and he very much doubted if they would see another human being for a month.

**A/N: Whooo! Yay, we meet Sora. I wanted to do more with her, but I never got around to it. She comes in later, but she's not a main character, unfortunately. Please review, and check out my author's page for the poll on what I should write next :D I'm adding another selection too, so remember to look over it and vote again if you want to :D**

**Volcanos – She didn't want to try out for the musical. She **_**hated**_** musicals. All she wanted to do was concentrate of landing a record deal and scraping enough money for rent. It **_**didn't**_** help that Darcy – world famous actor and musician was going to be the lead in the State Theatre Company's rendition of 'The Phantom of the Opera', because as handsome and clever as he was, he also happened to be a complete jerk. But Darcy certainly didn't feel that way about the leading lady – quite the opposite, in fact. Her voice became his passion, her love became his obsession, and her refusal was his rage (theme of music and gothic theatre).**


	40. London Lights

**A/N: Yay, nice long chapter! Once again, I'm speeding through a bit, but I'm being selective about what I put in, so I can keep the plot alive. Read on, if you dare :D**

Loli yawned lightly, stretching her arms out and letting her eyelids flutter open. She smiled softly at the image of her husband for two weeks looking down at her, running his hands over her soft curls.

"How long was I out?" she questioned tiredly, sitting up, his lap no longer acting as her pillow.

"Not long. We should be in London in about half an hour," he replied quietly, as she rested her head against his shoulder, and shifted closer to him, tucking her legs beneath her body.

"Why do they make limos with mini-bars, but without beds?" she questioned sleepily, as Darcy gave a breathy chuckle.

"I think that would give people the wrong idea," he replied, smoothing her hair back, and pulling her into his lap, her head still pressed against his shoulder. "But I promise that next time I'll buy a limo with a bed," he assured her. She muttered something into his shoulder. He gave a soft smile, and kissed the top of her head.

The wedding had been beautiful. The day was warm for that time of the year, and they had a very small ceremony in the chapel on the Pemberley grounds. Joan, Sora, Gigi (holding Callum) and Chandra acted as Loli's bridesmaids, Magdalen and Eve the flower girls, Ezekiel and Nathaniel the ring bearers, allowing for almost everyone assembled to be a part of the ceremony. Cale refused to be Darcy's best man, the anger he felt towards his friend still too much for him to put aside, but Richard put up a very good show of it, and didn't wear the comical pink suit he threatened to bring a few days prior.

In Darcy's mind, Lolita had never looked more beautiful in her entire life. She wore a beautiful silk dress that was a very pale pink on the underlayer, covered in creamy white lace over the top. It had no straps, and flowed freely about her petit body, ending a few inches above her knees, and, because it simply wouldn't be her without it, there was a pale pink bow under the bust line with a light blue cameo that had belonged to his Great Grandmother. He couldn't take her eyes away from her as she walked up a makeshift isle, instead of a bouquet she held the hands of each of her young siblings, who carried baskets of white rose petals as she approached, her hair flowing in long, scarlet tresses, looking like some sort of beautiful creature from the very gardens of Eden themselves.

He could tell she was nervous. It was a small ceremony, between people that they loved, and he knew that she didn't put too much stock in marriage itself, but regardless of her opinions, moral and religious; she understood the gravity of the event, and what it meant to him, to be married in the same church that his parents had been married in. She knew that it meant more to him than a piece of paper, than a ring, than a few promises, she knew that it meant that in the eyes of God, and everyone in the world, they were one.

The guests remained in Pemberley for the rest of the weekend, before leaving to their respective homes. Some relationships were strained and hard to deal with, Chandra was saying nothing about her current situation – but Richard had gleefully admitted to everyone he could that she wasn't going to be returning to Colin's penthouse in the Riviera, instead, she would be living with him in London, as roommates, but it was a fairly big change, after all. There were many questions that needed to be asked, but no one spoke them aloud, respecting Chandra's wish for silence on the topic.

Between Joan and Cale though, things could have been easier. It would be difficult for Joan to forgive Cale immediately, but Darcy could tell that Cale was desperate to regain her love. He personally thought that they were going to do fine together, Joan was cutting her course in America short and returning to London so she could be closer to Lolita, but Darcy suspected that Cale's returned presence in England had something to do with it too.

Sora left a few days later than the rest of the guests. He hated watching the goodbye between his new wife and her best friend, because unlike the farewells thrown about with Joan and Chandra, there was an extra gravity to their parting. They both knew that it was going to be a very long time before they saw each other again, if ever. It was something unspoken between the two, as if somehow, they knew that something was going to happen.

And what was worse, the moment that a teary eyed Sora climbed into the back seat of the cab, he felt the same feeling coarse through him. Something was going to happen, he could feel it. He held his wife tightly to his chest, supposedly as an act of comfort as she waved goodbye to her close friend and confidant, but it was just as much a comfort to him as it was to her.

He pulled her closer to him in the back seat of the limo, relishing in the warmth they shared as she snuggled further into his chest, her hand curled limply in the folds of his sweater. Two rings glittered brightly back at him. A white gold engagement ring, with a large, gorgeous emerald cut diamond and several smaller diamonds, all interlocking with what looked like shimmering vines, vines that stood for eternal love and strength. The wedding band was simpler, done in the same white gold, with a row of tiny diamonds encircling the band, the same ring that sat on the fourth finger of his left hand. She claimed they were both too expensive and flamboyant for her, but she managed to pull them off with her usual elegance and grace.

It seemed almost surreal that she was his wife. After all, it had only been six or seven months since they met, and yet they were already married. He felt a surge of pride swell within him whenever he thought of that. They were _married_. Man and wife. She was finally his, and he was hers, until death would they part. He felt more alive than he had ever been, he felt like he was completely and totally at home when he was holding her. He had considered her very attractive from the moment that he spotted her in the busy airport terminal in Tokyo, passing through security before they were all thrown into the same waiting room together. He had wanted to approach her, to talk to her, but his own pride had gotten in the way. When he turned around in the line for coffee to see her perfect face scowling up at him, he had secretly rejoiced. Not that he'd ever tell her, however, he thought, with a small smile as he smoothed back stray curls from her delicate skin.

But no matter how attractive he had found her in Tokyo, at the party when they were formally introduced, wearing her ridiculous outfits to work, completely naked in a bubble bath, or dressed like an angel in her white gown on the day of their wedding, it was all _nothing_ compared to the radiance that she had taken on in the first two weeks of their marriage. It was like finally declaring their love for each other had allowed her to break past her last little insecurity with their relationship, and let her emotions run free. She was a vision, truly. Even Cale and Richard had commented of the same to him the day before they readied to leave for their respective homes, she had taken on a certain glow, an aura about her, giving her new founded beauty.

"You know, if I'd met her before you turned up, I'm quite certain that I'd fall in love with that girl," Richard had commented nonchalantly to his cousin. Darcy narrowed his eyes, and Richard gave a playful laugh. "Honestly man, your wife gets more beautiful every day, but you're safe from me, I couldn't stand another beating from you," he assured him, and Darcy's expression softened slightly.

"Personally, I find Joan prettier, but Loli really _has_ changed, there's just something about her that makes her look… well, she's quite a catch," Cale threw in. Darcy smiled quietly as he glanced back into the sunroom, where all the ladies were assembled, Lolita laughing warmly at the comments of her new sister-in-law as she tried to reveal embarrassing stories of her brother's youth.

"She most certainly is," he murmured softly, his entire heart feeling like it was going to burst at the seams as he gazed at the beautiful young woman, his _wife_, sitting in the opposite room.

"Think about it though," Richard began. "If she looks like _this_ when she's twenty-one, still a child really, imagine what she's going to look like in another five or ten years," he threw in. Cale took a sharp intake of breath.

"God. Whit, when you're forty, take pride in the thought that you'll have a twenty-something Helen of Troy to call your wife," he said advised.

"Helen of Troy? You've got to be kidding me," Darcy objected. "Not that I'm willing to go into details of my intimacies with the likes of you two, but _my_ gorgeous, talented young wife can only ever be compared to Aphrodite," he added smugly.

He chuckled at the memory. Likening his new bride to the Greek goddess of sexual love was much more appropriate than Helen of Troy, but it certainly had a lot of ramifications. Inquiries about his sex life didn't end until the two of them were on their way back to their homes, and even Lolita was growing suspicious as to their constant glances.

She stirred softly against his chest. She never really slept well, waking up at every small sound, shifting around endlessly to find comfort, sometimes awakening in tears during the middle of the night due to nightmares that she forgot the moment she opened her eyes or with seizing pains in her muscles, but as of late she had hardly been sleeping at all, and he was certain that it was his fault. He couldn't help but be apprehensive about their return to London, because he knew that in order not to cause too much suspicion, they had to make public appearances, and that could be dangerous for the both of them. He was used to sleeping fitfully, and getting by with no more than four hours rest each night for months, but she couldn't physically keep up with his endurance. Blood clotting disorders tended to weaken a person, but unfortunately, she was determined to stay up with him every night, comforting his fears and apprehensions for the upcoming return.

"Are we there yet?" she murmured tiredly into his chest. He chuckled softly and held her closer to his body, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Almost, love," he said quietly. He felt her smile against his sweater at the term of endearment, but she did not make any more movement. He was fairly certain that instead of the grand tour of their London townhouse, perhaps a nap would be advisable. He glanced out the window. It was getting dark already anyway; perhaps they would just go to bed early and save the introductions until the next morning.

He ran through his mental checklist of things that needed to occur over the next month. They had countless parties, charity events and dinners that they needed to attend to keep up their appearances in society, an entirely new wardrobe needed to be ordered for her, not to mention the redecorating that would probably take place at the townhouse, and as much as he hated the thought, over the next month he would be spending most of his time with his team of lawyers, so a lot of work would be instantly heaped on Lolita.

He sighed when he realised that tiny moments like the one he was experiencing, being able to hold her tightly, would be scarce over the next month in preparation for the appeal, and then even less in the two weeks that it would be spread over. For the next six weeks, it seemed that they would only be able to see each other at the endless amount of parties they had to attend, and even then he would only be in her presence for a fraction of the time.

But after the court case, he thought with a soft grin, it would be one month in Southern Europe, on an isolated beach somewhere, where they could _really_ enjoy the beginning of their marriage, and he could have her all to himself. He couldn't wait to settle into some sort of domestic bliss with her, where they would spend most of their time at Pemberley, start a family, grow old together, although, he thought quietly, stroking her cheek softly with his finger, _his_ growing older would come a great deal sooner than _hers_.

He'd never asked her before, but he wondered if the age difference bothered her. If she thought perhaps that he was too old for her, if she felt like she was too young for him. It had never been a problem to him, well, it had been initially, but he'd long since abandoned his insecurities when it came to his wife. But still, it _was_ a large age gap, and they'd never really spoken about it.

"Lolita," he whispered quietly to her, frowning slightly. She mumbled something, and shifted in his arms.

"Yes?" she managed to get out, but it sounded more like a whimper than a word.

"Am I old?" he questioned her. She shifted again, and snuggled closer into his sweater.

"Yes," she replied, when her mind had coherently processed his question. He scowled.

"I'm not _that_ old," he defended himself.

"Don't worry," she mumbled in his chest. "You're a Sean Connery old. George Clooney old. Gregory Peck old," she assured him. He rolled his eyes, she was teasing him.

"Ha ha," he said sarcastically, watching her pink little lips curl into a small smirk.

"Serves you right for waking me up," she yawned tiredly. She cuddled close to him like a little kitten, muttering soft little half words and tiny yawns. He leant over her to grab the blanket on the opposite seat, and wrapped it over her shoulders. She made another small murmur, but said nothing else, drifting back into sleep.

He sighed softly. She was so perfectly beautiful, so irresistibly wonderful.

And she was his, he thought a little while later as the car came to a halt in the drive of his familiar London townhouse. She was still fast asleep, and when the door opened, he did not wake her, only adjusted his hold on her, and stepped out, carrying her like a delicate toddler, her head nestled in his shoulder.

"Still sleeping?" the driver questioned with a small chuckle. Whit smiled slightly.

"If I wake her she'll kill me," he informed him. The man gave another tiny chuckle, and then led the way to the front door. The maids were probably still in there, airing out the house and preparing for his visit, but he requested the driver unlock the door regardless, and slipped into the house quietly, as to not disturb his sleeping bundle.

He softly placed her on their bed in the master bedroom up the stairs, her hair falling out of its loose ponytail, spilling around her shoulders and soft features, like a sleeping princess, or fragile nymph painted by Waterhouse himself. She shifted fitfully, the zipper of her jeans sticking into her pale skin. He carefully eased them off and pulled down the covers of the bed, sliding her beneath the silk sheets. He brushed a lock of her scarlet hair back from her face, and couldn't help but stare at her in wonder. She was incredibly, cataclysmically, terminally beautiful to him.

He sat down on the side of the bed, and then slid his shoes off. He shuffled over, and slipped between the sheets, placing a possessive hand on her waist, his eyes drifting over her face as she slept in silence. He wasn't tired, but he could stay all day in that bed, simply watching her sleep.

'_It's calming. Watching someone you love sleep. It lets you know that they're real, that they're living, breathing, that they're safe. That they're yours forever…'_

Had it really been four months ago that he said those words to her? Had he been as afraid then as he was in that very moment, so close to her, but feeling like she was about to be taken away from him forever? Because lying in that bed, watching her chest rise and fall, he had never been more terrified in his entire life. He was frightened to death that coming to London was a bad idea, because she was the most precious thing that he could call his, and she didn't even understand how fragile her existence was going to be over the next six weeks.

He pressed a small, light kiss to her forehead.

He would keep her safe.

He would do _anything_ to keep her safe.

~ * ~

Loli gave an irritable huff of discomfort as she held up her arms whilst Collette stuck another pin desperately close to her skin.

"Be _still_, ma bijou!" she cried warningly. Loli rolled her eyes in impatience, and resisted the urge to kick the woman in her perfectly painted face.

"I've been standing here for _hours_!" she cried angrily. "And you still haven't even done the top of the damn dress! It's _cold_ up here you know!" she added with irritation.

"I 'ave already _told_ you, you silly _fille_!" snapped Collette, scowling with her glossy red lips. "Zee _skirt_ is zee main appeal of zis dress! I _'ave_ to complete zee skirt first! And zee bodice only needs a leetle altering, but zee _skirt_ comes now!" she practically hissed. "Do you want your 'usband to see you in a trashy little scrap of _filth_?" she questioned her.

"To be perfectly frank, Collette, you could dress her up in anything, and I would still prefer her naked," came a teasing voice from the doorway. Loli turned her head to see her smirking spouse taking in her appearance, arms held high, wearing nothing but an elaborate skirt with layers of silk and tulle, pins sticking out everywhere, and a baby blue lace bra.

"Ah! _Finally_ 'ee returns!" Collette cried, glaring at the man who had just joined them. He shrugged off his coat and tossed it on the chaise, his briefcase joining it as he loosened his tie. "Eet eez a Saturday! You aren't even supposed to be working on zee Saturdays, why 'ave you come back so late? Does 'ee come 'ome zis late _every_ day?" she questioned incredulously to Loli.

"Only when he's with his legal team, so yes, that's everyday since we came to London. He's back relatively early, considering the amount of times he's dragged himself in at three AM this week," she replied flatly, letting her arms fall to her side. "No – I don't care. I've lost all feeling in them," she snapped to Collette, before she could object.

"Remove the satin layer underneath – it puffs the skirt up too much," Darcy advised, circling his wife intently. "Have you done the bodice yet?" he asked. Collette scowled at him, and pointed towards the couch, where some sort of sheer pink slip sat. He picked it up, and walked back towards his wife.

"I hate you right now," she informed him coolly, sending him a pointed glare. "What was wrong with me wearing that dress that Joan and I saw? It was _nice_. It was already made up. It didn't involve pins and me standing around half naked all day!" she snapped.

"This one will suit you better," he said simply, raising her arms back above her head.

"I missed out on a whole day of work to have pins stuck into me!" she cried angrily.

"Collette, I think the tulle should be in the rose, it's too intense in the silk, and if we lost it completely there would be too much pink," he said, ignoring her last comment. He held up the bodice and compared it to the skirt, frowning slightly. "I think definitely the tulle in the rose, and the sash around the waist should be in the rose too. It needs to dip further at the back, and don't bother cutting the extra material off, the layered waterfall back works better," he advised.

"Lolita, 'ou are a _very_ lucky woman to 'ave a man who understands 'is fashion," Collette said through a mouthful of pins. Loli only scowled, and rolled her eyes.

"Yes. Lucky. Sure," she muttered sarcastically.

"Stop fidgeting, you'll only make it harder," Darcy advised her, reaching over to her back and unsnapping her strapless bra with one hand, letting it fall to the floor.

"_Whit_!" she practically squealed, making a move to quickly cover her bare chest.

"I've already seen it all, love," he reminded her patiently, wrapping the strapless bodice around her chest. It was a mass of layered soft pink silk, with a soft M cut that dipped scandalously low at the back, and was sheer enough to give definition, but not detail to her chest, definition that she was rather uncomfortable with.

"I know – but that's different! You can't just –"

"Your wife eez _very_ coy, did 'ou know?" Collette questioned Darcy, interrupting Loli's scolding of him.

"Only when it comes to her body, Collette," he replied patiently, adjusting the bodice, and pulling the waist sash on the skirt a bit higher, so it sat over the hem of the bodice and gave great definition to her waist.

"I am _not_ a prude!" she defended herself sharply, glaring down at her husband from her position on the wooden stool, allowing for Collette to adjust the skirt freely.

"You know, I think this needs to be slightly looser around the bust," he added, frowning slightly.

"Eet was originally measured to allow for a brassiere," she informed him curtly. "Your _wife_ refused to go weetout one," she added.

"The material is too sheer. It needs to be loosened, she fills it out much more without one," he commented, still looking her up and down as if she were evaluating a building plan or a design for an airplane.

"I'm not going without a bra," she snapped. "This dress is completely see-through! I'll look like a hooker!" she cried.

"You can't get away with a one. The material is too sheer, it flattens your chest to much, and you'll be able to see the straps at the back," he informed her. "Don't worry, you won't be advertising anything – it'll be decent," he assured her.

"Won't you get a bit annoyed when fat old men are staring at your wife's boobs the whole evening?" she questioned coolly.

"Love, as long as in the end, _I'm_ the only one allowed to touch your breasts, I think I can manage," he replied indifferently, stepping back, and examining the dress to the side as she sent him an angry scowl.

"My dear, 'ee is _lying_," Collette informed her pointedly. "Your 'usband eez zee most possessive, _jealous_ man on zee face of zee planet," she added. Loli couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"I have to agree with you on that one," she replied. "You and I both know that if one man even _glanced_ at me you would rip their eyes out," she threw at Darcy.

"Put another layer of the chiffon over the bust, that should to the trick," he ordered Collette, who rolled her dark eyes, and started to remove the layer of satin beneath the layers of tulle, chiffon and silk of the skirt.

"I don't like it – it makes me look like I'm on display in Playboy," Loli stated firmly, glancing at herself in the mirror whilst Darcy continued to circle her.

"Loli, it's fine. Collette, I think that if we adjust the sash we could put in an empire waist line, it'd have to be reasonably low, however, to allow for the cut on the back," he threw in.

"Whit, I really don't like it, I feel practically naked! It's too tight, it's too see-through, I can't wear this!" Loli objected, but he just waved her off with an annoyed flick of his hand as he fiddled with the sash.

"This really needs to be in the rose," he muttered.

"I 'ave zee sash in zee cream, pink, rose and ivory," Collette informed him, standing up, and bustling over to her temporary workstation, picking up several lengths of different coloured silk. He took one of a rich rose colour, and held it against the dress.

"This works much better. Especially if the tulle at the front is in the rose too," he commented, before Collette busied herself with the change of the sash.

"Whit, _please_, I'd feel so uncomfortable in this, it's not me. Don't make me wear it, _please_," Loli pleaded with him. He rolled his eyes.

"Loli, the dress isn't even finished, wait until it's done," he replied sternly. Loli bit her lip, and turned her head away in silent anger. "She looks pale, how long has she been standing up there?" he asked Collette.

"Stop your _worryingz_, little boy! She eez _fine_," Collette waved him off, removing the last of the pale pink sash from Loli's waist, holding up the skirt as she began to attach the new one.

"I think in a bunched bow would work better, and then let the rest of the material flow out," he advised. "Is it too tight?" he asked Loli, as Collette started to tighten the sash. She didn't answer. "Bring it in another few inches, but give her room to breathe," he said to Collette when he determined that she wasn't going to answer him.

"What do you theenk of zee length?" Collette questioned Darcy, as she finished tying the bow.

"It works. And the sash looks much better, sew it on, change the tulle, and add that extra piece of chiffon to the bust, and it should be done, let her down now, she's tired," he replied, stepping back, and evaluating the dress as an almost finished product. Loli avoided his eyes, simply scowled out the window with a firmly set jaw. He searched her face for a moment, before turning back to Collette. "Will you have it ready by tomorrow night?" he questioned.

"Of _course_ I shall, you leetle boy!" she cried, as if offended. "Your pretty leetle wife shall be zee _belle_ of zee _ball_, I shall bring zee dress around tomorrow morning for zee final fitting," she said finally, sticking several more pins in, before removing the skirt. "_Now_ you may step down, young lady," she said finally to Loli, who gratefully descended from her perch in silence. She removed the bodice, put her bra back on, and quickly pulled on her robe, leaving the room quickly and in loaded, angry silence.

She stormed upstairs, slammed their bedroom door loudly, releasing an angry, frustrated cry the moment that it closed. How could he be so insensitive? Did he even give a shit that she _hated_ that dress? That she felt horrible in it? All he seemed to care about was having a pretty little wife on his arm for yet another stupid party!

She was so _angry_ at him! They had been in London for a little over a week, and already her life consisted merely of fittings, social gatherings, and trying to get in as much work as she possibly could whilst she waited up for him until the early hours of the morning! They barely had any time for a quick kiss on the cheek anymore, in such a short amount of time her heaven had already turned into hell – he wasn't even listening to her anymore! All he could think of was looking like a nice, happy couple for the tabloids!

She stormed about the room like a wild animal in a cage, kicking shoes that lay strewn on the floor, throwing pieces of clothing and pillows at the walls, one step away from destroying the framed photographs of their beautiful, simple wedding she was so enraged. Had he changed at all? She understood that she had been rather judgemental of his actions before she realised his true motives, but that didn't change the fact that he still had the tendency to be incredibly demanding.

"Lolita, the door is locked," she heard his familiar voice call as he rattled at the doorknob.

"Fuck off Darcy," she snapped angrily in retort. She heard him give an annoyed sigh.

"Listen, I know that I was a few hours late, and I know that you don't like fittings, but tonight is the first opportunity that I've had to spend a quiet evening alone with you," he said patiently. "And I _don't_ want to spend it fighting," he added. She gave a bitter laugh.

"You weren't even supposed to be working today. If you have _any_ intention of getting lucky, you can kiss that goodbye," she snapped coldly, crossing her arms against her chest.

"Are you angry at me because I went to a meeting on a Saturday? Lolita – need I remind you that the appeal is in less than three weeks?" he replied curtly.

"Maybe we didn't spend so much time going to useless parties we could have a few more 'quiet evenings alone', but that was _your_ decision," she threw out with irritation.

"Lolita, it's important that society looks at us as a perfectly happy couple, we draw less attention that way," he reminded her patiently.

"You know what? I don't give a shit, Darcy," she responded bitterly. "When you agreed to come back to London, you said that I could return to the office _full time_. You said that I could resume a normal lifestyle. You said that we would be _equal_ in all decisions we make!" she snapped.

"We _are_ equal," he objected. She crossed the room quickly, and wrenched the door open, glaring up at him, her eyes alight.

"I stood on that stool for hours, being poked and prodded, and I _told_ you that I didn't like that dress," she said coldly, trying to keep her voice level. "Not only did you not try and find out why, so we could adjust it, but you blatantly ignored what I was saying!" she continued, her voice rising in volume and anger. "You didn't pay _me_ one iota of attention, instead you focused on fucking tulle and sashes, and you _took my bra off_, right in front of Collette!" she cried, her eyes stinging with hot, unshed tears.

"She's a modiste, Lolita, she's seen it all," he tried to rationalise. "And I just wanted her to finish the dress so that we could _finally_ have some time together," he continued.

"No, Whit," snapped, practically trembling with anger, not even able to look at him anymore. "I'm not comfortable with taking my bra off in front of someone that isn't my husband. I'm not comfortable with standing around half naked all day, and I'm _certainly_ not comfortable with that ridiculous excuse for a dress!" she cried, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying. "I _know_ that you have to work, I _know_ that the appeal is coming up, but if this is the way that it's going to be for the rest of our lives," she began steadily, "- then something has to change. I'm your _wife_, not your doll," she snapped.

She couldn't even look at him. She turned away, and quickly pulled open her wardrobe, grabbing a handful of clothes and storming past him, down the hall.

"I'm tired. I'm going to sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight," she called shortly, before disappearing into one of the rooms, and slamming the door shut.

She let out another soft, strangled sob as she leant against the door, and slid down to the floor, her knees tucked beneath her chin.

God, she loved him, and she felt like she was just sabotaging what they had, but since they came to London, things had been so strained. She was supposed to be working in the office full-time, but he said that it was safer if she came in as little as possible. She felt like things were always _his_ decision, that she was just a trinket, or a doll for him to play with. She didn't doubt that he loved her, but over the past few days, it had become increasingly obvious that he didn't respect her.

So what could she do? She refused to play the weak, senseless little housewife, but she was determined not to just walk out, like she probably would have done before. It was just a little fight, right? They had fights all the time, but in the end, they both managed to reach some sort of compromise, some sort of agreement.

She knew she was disillusioning herself. She had the distinct impression that whilst he cared for her, loved and protected her, shared everything with her, when it came down to it, all he wanted to do was play the big strong husband, and her the meek little wife. She couldn't live like that. She'd never wanted that kind of life – and she'd be damned if she let him walk all over her.

~ * ~

Whit didn't sleep one wink that night. How could he? She hadn't even wanted to be in the same _room_ as him, she was so disgusted!

How had he never seen that she was so insecure about what she wore? No wonder she had been wearing Lolita for so long – it was modest, it was cute, it wasn't old beyond her years, she was comfortable with it, she _wasn't_ comfortable with the dress that was being made for her.

He paced. He wanted to go to her, to apologise, to say that they would change the dress, get a new one, or skip the party entirely, but he knew that would only make her angrier. Something was bothering her, and the dress was only a small part of it.

~ * ~

He knocked quietly on the door of the room she had spent the night in. He heard nothing, so he turned the knob, and pushed it open, balancing a tray laden with food in one hand as he stepped into the room.

The room was enveloped in darkness, the curtains closed, and it took him a few moments to make out the landmarks of the room as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. He stepped carefully towards the bed, placed the tray on the side table in silence, and then crossed the room, drawing open the curtains, light streaming in through the window.

She muttered something and stirred in discomfort, wrapped up in and endless amount of white sheets, tangled within them so he couldn't tell where she ended and the blankets began. He sat on the bed next to her, waiting for her eyes to open.

"Morning," he greeted softly, when she finally gained lucidness. Her today milky-blue eyes met his crystal grey ones, and she frowned slightly. "I – uh – got you some breakfast," he announced, gesturing to the tray on the bedside table. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and following his gaze.

"Oh," was all she said. Not as a comment of surprise, but simply to acknowledge the tray's existence. She nodded.

"Uh - Collette is coming this morning; I called her, and told her that you want to change the dress. I – well, I know that you're tired of fittings, but she has your measurements, so she should be able to alter it on your instructions," he informed her uncomfortably. She nodded again, and picked up the cup of coffee sitting on the tray, sipping it in silence. "We don't have to go tonight, either, if that's what you want," he added.

"If tonight is important to you, then we can go," she replied stiffly. He nodded slowly.

"Oh, and Gigi called. She sends her love, she says that Pemberley is still very cold," he said, trying to make light conversation. "How are you feeling?" he asked, when she did not reply.

"Fine."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Probably a lot better than you. You look like shit," she answered pointedly. He slowly nodded, staring at the foot of the bed, not really seeing it there.

"I – I cancelled today's meeting with the lawyers, so… I'm free today," he informed her.

"Don't you still have a lot to go through?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow at him. He nearly melted under her gaze.

"You're more important than the appeal," he replied. She turned away from him.

"Callum is your nephew. You have to look after him," she said, after a pause, as if she were somehow… _angry_ that he had cancelled the meeting, that he was putting her first.

"You're my wife. I have to look after you, too," he countered. She gave a quiet, bitter laugh, and shook her head. "What?" he questioned, confused at her reaction.

"I've never had a problem with you coming home late because of meetings, Darcy," she informed him simply. "I have a problem with wasting our time, going to parties, trying to look like a happy couple, when we don't even seem to _be_ a couple anymore," she said. "And I know I'm making a big deal of this. I know that I seem to be sabotaging our happiness whenever I can, but I feel like you're so hell bent on playing the husband that you seem to be taking on the role of the father, too," she continued, laying all her cards on the table.

"What did I do wrong?" he questioned incredulously. "Just – tell me, point out what I said or did, give me a _clue_," he begged her.

"Darcy, it doesn't even matter anymore to me. Don't treat me like I'm your wife, like I'm your sister, like I'm your daughter, treat me like I'm an _equal_, show me the same respect you show yourself," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes. "We can put this on the shelf for now. That doesn't mean pretend that I'm not angry, that I'm not hurt or ashamed, it means that I have very limited time to be with you, and I don't want to use it to argue," she decided quietly.

"No, Lolita, I want to get this out of the way _now_," he insisted.

"For _once_, Darcy, for _once_ in the entire time I've known you, I'm going to make the decision on this one," she snapped angrily. "I've decided that we can deal with this later – that you're on probation, not just because I'm so ridiculously tired that I don't want to discuss this anymore, but because sometimes _you_ need to listen to _me_," she added curtly.

"I do listen to you, Lolita," he snapped in response.

"You didn't yesterday, Darcy, and until you can work out yourself why I was upset with you, then this matter is on the shelf. End of story," she finished, crossing her arms against her chest.

"So what now then?" he questioned. Did they simply stay angry at each other until they reached an understanding? Did she forgive him for whatever he had done?

"I've missed you," she said simply. "I know we've only been in London for a little while, but… I've missed you," she sighed.

"I've missed you too," he replied, almost dumbly. She raised her head to meet his eyes. He held her gaze.

She pulled forwards quickly, practically throwing herself at his chest, meeting his lips in an almost bruising kiss. He would have been shocked, if he hadn't been about to do the same thing in about half a second. He pulled her onto his chest, running his hands up and down her back.

"Your breakfast will get cold," he informed her warningly, breaking their kiss for a moment. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm not hungry, you idiot," she replied, before once again pressing her lips against his, silencing him instantly.

~ * ~

"How do you do it?" he questioned incredulously as she examined herself in the full length mirror in their master bedroom. She caught his adoring gaze in the reflection, and smiled pleasantly.

"Do what?" she enquired curiously, applying a final layer of '_Berry Kiss_' lip gloss.

"Look more beautiful every time I see you?" he clarified, drinking in her appearance like she were a fine wine.

"You look pretty hot yourself, you know," she replied smugly. "Lighter colours definitely work on you. Of course, you would look better in jeans," she added. He truly _did_ look marvellous, wearing a pale grey three piece suit with a silvery-coloured silk cravat, his hair, which was getting quite lengthy, falling about his face perfectly, and the fact that he hadn't shaved in a few days was certainly helping.

"I haven't worn jeans since I was sixteen," he defended, stepping forwards, and wrapped his arms around her torso from behind, pressing his lips into her neck.

"God, they _had_ jeans back then?" she questioned dubiously. He lightly nipped the skin of her shoulder as punishment, and she laughed. "So you've been wearing proper trousers and suits since you were sixteen?" she asked curiously, opening her jewellery box, and examining each item as she decided what to wear.

"Yes," he answered, as if it were a perfectly natural occurrence. "I don't completely and totally object to jeans, they just look better on you," he explained, his exploring hands sliding down her waist to rest on her hips, as he began to kiss his way up her neck.

"Mhm… stop it, you we'll never get out of here," she said warningly. He chuckled breathily, his hands running back up their previously travelled path, and then down again.

"I have no objections to that at the moment," he replied, and she could feel his smirk pressed into her skin.

"Hun, seriously. I'm not redoing my makeup _again_. And Joan will kill me if I don't go to this," she tried to chastise him, pushing his hands away.

"Hmm… you could take her. She's taller, but you're quicker," he rationalised, before grazing his teeth over her earlobe.

"_Whit_…" she warned. He let out an exasperated sigh, and released her neck from his exquisite torture. He stepped back from behind her, once again taking in her appearance with approving eyes.

"You were right about the dress, by the way, it looks lovely now," he praised her. She rolled her eyes, and handed him her love heart diamond pendant necklace, holding her hair up so he could put it on her.

"I'm just glad that you _finally_ listened to my suggestions," she replied. "Should I cut my hair?" she asked curiously, frowning as she pulled on one of the long red curls.

"Don't you dare," he said warningly. She laughingly rolled her eyes.

"That's right, I forgot you had a thing about it," she muttered teasingly. He frowned as he finished putting on her necklace.

"I don't have a _thing_ about it, I like your hair," he defended.

"Ooh, I'm going to call you Scott Vanity for the rest of the night," she smirked in response.

"What _is_ that anyway?" he questioned, as she put on some diamond stud earrings.

"Youtube it," she advised. "Should we go now? I wanna get this over with," she said finally, stepping back from the mirror. "How do I look?" she asked, turning to face him.

Whit couldn't really find the words to describe her beauty. The dress fit her perfectly, showing off her curves, defining her form, but not revealing too much. The skirt was beautiful, she had decided that the tulle was too much, and instead opted for just the pale pink satin with an upside down V split at the front, which gave the smallest, loveliest glimpse of her legs behind a layer of sheer rose chiffon. The skirt fell to the floor, the back trailing just a little, but not to huge extremities.

"Like I want to forget this party and throw you against the nearest surface," he replied, still drinking in her appearance. She smirked.

"Hmm… can you? Sounds much more exciting than some stuffy party," she teased him, placing smooth hands on his chest, running the lapels of his jacket through her fingers in a manner that he found almost irresistible. He swallowed back a groan.

"Please, try not to look so ridiculously sexy – you might start something that we don't have time to finish," he begged of her. She gave a playful pout, and stepped back from him.

"_Fine_," she sulked, grabbing her purse and rose coloured shawl to cover her shoulders in the cool London air. "So. Who's party are we going to anyway?" she asked, following him out of the bedroom, and into the hall.

"Marcel Chagny. He has a small but impressive steel company, and I'd like to purchase it," he explained simply. "This is to celebrate the thirty-seventh birthday of his third wife, but she's really forty, and the entire party is just a façade so several businessmen can fight for his company," he continued.

"What did we get his wife?" she asked curiously.

"Uh, my secretary picked it out. Something from Tiffany's," he replied as they started down the stairs. "It's in the car somewhere. Oh, her name is Adelaide Pervell-Chagny, she's vain and flighty, but seems to know everything about everyone in society," he explained.

"What does she do?" Loli questioned curiously, as he led her to the front door, and then opened it, stepping outside into the night, a sleek black Mercedes waiting out the front of the townhouse for them, Charles, their London driver, waiting patiently for them.

"She's Chagny's wife," he answered, as if that explained all.

"No, I meant her career," she clarified, as he pulled open the car door for her, and she slid in.

"She doesn't have one, she's his wife," he stated, following her into the vehicle. "Go, please, Charles," he said to the driver. "Very few women in society _have_ real jobs, and if they do, most of them have something to do with fashion or modelling," he explained.

"Is that why you haven't let me go back to work full time?" she asked suddenly. "It that why I've had to do all of my work from home?" she questioned.

"Of course not. I just didn't want you to be thrown back into the workforce after everything that's happened over the past few months, and it's safer this way," he explained. Loli frowned.

"Is this party going to be different from the others that I've been to?" she asked him suddenly.

"Yes. The others were very low-key, more like intimate dinners than parties," he replied. She quirked an eyebrow.

"I find that hard to believe," she said pointedly, crossing her arms against her chest. He sighed.

"Lolita, the dinners we've been to have been a collection of my close business associates and their spouses, none of the women knew each other, so it wasn't as… hectic," he explained. "But tonight is going to be different. I won't lie to you, you probably won't enjoy some aspects of it at all, but it's important to remember that a lot of the women there are going to… well, be jealous of you," he explained awkwardly.

"Because I've got such a hot husband?" she questioned, with a small smirk.

"Uhhh… well, I have money, a title, connections and a business empire," he began, frowning slightly.

"And you're pretty."

"_Please_, a more masculine adjective would work," he retorted. She stifled laughter. "A lot of the women there were throwing themselves at me for several years. And what's more, you're younger, and much more naturally attractive than them, but don't let them intimidate you," he requested. He looked thoughtful for a second, as if he disagreed with his own statement. "I take that back. Don't intimidate _them_," he corrected.

"Oh drat, and it could have been _so_ much fun," she laughed, her eyes sparkling. "And how do I deal with the men?" she questioned teasingly.

"If they look at you, tell me. I'll destroy them," he replied. "You should be alright, if you're careful, pay attention, and make sure that you be as polite as possible. You should be fine," he said, but he sounded rather nervous himself. She rolled her eyes, and settled against his chest, playing with his hands. "Are you still angry at me?" he asked suddenly. She glanced up at his concerned face.

"You listened to what I had to say about the dress, which was good, but I'm still annoyed at you. It'll keep though, I need an excuse to snap at you every now and again," she answered, with a small grin. He gave a grateful sigh of relief.

"Can I kiss you, or would you have to redo your lipstick?" he questioned.

"Uhh… no. Sorry, these lips took about three hours to do," she replied warningly.

"Charles, the screen, please," he requested the driver, who, like a well-trained dog, kept his gaze straight ahead.

"Of course, Mister Darcy," he replied, switching a button. Suddenly, a screen rose up out of the front seats, separating the two sections of the car.

"I guess I'll just have to kiss you everywhere but your lips then," he smiled playfully.

The drive didn't take that long, and the couple were pleasantly occupied as they sped through the London streets. The car came to a stop in the winding gravel path outside a luxurious townhouse, and before they could even open up the door, a splendidly dressed attendant opened it for them.

Loli was nervous as she slid out of the car, particularly as several people exiting their own vehicles were sending her inquisitive glances as they all headed into the mansion-like structure. She held on tightly to Whit's arm, trying to remain composed. She realised suddenly that he was right, the three 'parties' they had attended were _nothing_ compared to what that night was promising to turn out as.

"Can I stay with you?" she whispered quietly to him after they had given their coats and the birthday gift for Mrs Chagny at the front desk in the entrance hall, just before they were about to enter the main parlour.

"You'll do fine," he promised her quietly, before placing a hand on the uncovered small of her back, and leading her into the room.

It was alive with light, colour and people. Many couples filling the heavily decorated room, which was oozing aristocracy, if not a lack of taste, men in elaborate suits, some smoking cigars, some with glasses of brand in their plump hands, woman wearing full ball gowns with their heavily died hair towering over their heads, jewellery dripping from every silicone-filled surface of their bodies. Most of the women looked to be in an age range of their early thirties to late forties, all dressed in the finest of designer dresses, clustering around each other like schools of sparkling fish. The number of couples seemed perfectly balanced, not so many that the party would become too large, but not so few that it would be too intimate.

The moment they stepped in, every head in the room was turned to them. This was deemed the 'official' presentation of the new Lady Fitzwhitlam Darcy into society, after all. And from what Chandra had commented to her, Loli suspected that she was one of the main topics of conversation for the upper-class London masses. She personally wanted to stick her tongue out at these people openly staring at her with intense curiosity, but the possessive hand on her back reminded her of the world she had married into. She took a deep breath, and allowed her husband to lead her into the lion's den.

"Darcy! Splendid that you could come!" a loud, booming cry sounded, as a stocky man with slicked back greying hair and a glass of whisky in his hand trotted towards them.

"Mister Chagny, the pleasure is all mine," he replied, his tone once again reverting to the serious, grave manner that he had adopted when she had first met him.

"Adelaide! Come greet our guests with me," the man cried over his shoulder to the gaggle of women. "This must be your latest 'acquisition' then!" he said delightedly, his beady eyes narrowing in on Loli as he clapped his pudgy hands together in glee. "My, what a _pretty_ girl she is, Darcy," he praised.

"Darling, this is Marcel Chagny, of Chagny Steel," Darcy began, his grip tightening slightly on Loli's back. "Mister Chagny, my wife, Lolita," he introduced.

"_Enchanted_, my dear little girl," Mister Chagny said in his booming voice, reaching for her hand. He pressed a rather uncomfortable kiss to her knuckles, his grey whiskers scratching painfully at her skin, before he released it.

"Likewise, Mister Chagny," she replied, trying to keep her tone polite, but she was fighting the urge to just turn around and go home already. "It's a pleasure to finally meet, my husband speaks very highly of you and your business," she said sweetly, lying through her teeth.

"Oh _does_ he now?" Chagny inquired, his beady little eyes glimmering at the thought, his chapped lips spreading quickly to a very pleased grin. "That's very good to –"

"_Mister Darcy_!" came a delighted squeal from behind Chagny, as a tall, blonde haired woman practically floated towards them in what looked to be a very practised strut, her black silhouette dress billowing around her oddly proportioned body.

"Mrs Chagny, it's good to see you once more," Whit greeted, as the woman pressed her lips to his cheek. He fidgeted slightly in discomfort when she put her hand on his arm, and flicked her head of blonde hair back.

"_Nonsense_, Fitz dear, call me Addy, I must have asked you _hundreds_ of times," she said airily. "Ah, and this must be Lady Darcy! Now _please_ introduce me to thing pretty little thing, we've all been _dying_ to meet her," she demanded, squaring in on Loli.

"Lolita, this is Adelaide Pervell-Chagny, and this is Lolita, my wife," he introduced, his tone still grave and serious.

"Call me Addy, dear," the woman requested, practically grabbing Loli and pressing a kiss to either side of her face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Addy," she replied pleasantly. "Oh, and happy birthday, I hope you've enjoyed your celebrations thus far," she added warmly.

"I'm _bound_ to enjoy them more now that I can spend them with my new little friend!" she declared delightedly. She looked like a fifty-year-old woman clinging desperately onto her youth, but her behaviour reminded Loli of Lindsay and Kayte, not a mature woman. "After you and your husband have made your rounds, you simply _have_ to join the girls and I, they'll all be delighted to meet you," she practically demanded. Loli sent back a slightly uncomfortable smile in return.

"Sounds wonderful," she replied. "If you'll excuse us, I think my husband wishes to greet some associates," she added.

The moment that they were out of earshot, Darcy lowered his head slightly to whisper in her ear.

"Bravo, my dear. I didn't know you had it in you," he said quickly. Loli gave a small smirk.

"I can hold my tongue occasionally, _Fitz_," she teased in response. The corners of his lips twitched, a smirk threatening to break his mask.

"_God_ you're sexy," he murmured under his breath, before staring straight ahead. His hand, still on the uncovered small of her back, slipped down slightly, the tips of his fingers sliding beneath the material slightly, and she shivered from the touch as he traced a light circle over her skin, as if her ribs were pianos and he was playing their favourite song.

"Unless you want me to jump you right in the middle of this room, you had better stop that," she said quietly. Once again, the corners of his mouth twitched. His fingers slid a little bit further under the material, still playing their invisible pattern. She bit her tongue to keep herself from letting out a small moan, trying to resist quivering from his touch. "_Whit_…" she said warningly.

"Now times this feeling by ten – that's what you do to me _all_ the time," he whispered breathily to her, just before they came into a large group of men and their wives, all stepping forwards quickly to meet the newest Darcy.

Loli swallowed back the butterflies in her stomach as she pasted on a sweet smile. It was going to take all her strength to get through the night without pulling her wickedly gorgeous husband into a broom cupboard and throw away the key, company be damned.

Perhaps this party wasn't such a bad idea after all, she thought to herself.

**A/N: Woah! That was long. Please leave your reviews at the door; you know how much I love to read them! ^__^**


	41. My Pride

**A/N: And onwards we go! A little bit of fluff and love from the party, because you're gonna need it for what's coming up! :D**

Half an hour later and she was separated from her husband by the gaggle of society women to the couches, whilst the men convened outside with whisky and cigars. She looked around at the women, it initially appeared that there were thousands of them, but upon further inspection, there were less than two dozen, relatively small for a party of that kind, she understood. There were many more men than there were women – but, she thought, glancing out to see her husband speaking with several men in suits, at least _they_ had something they could talk about.

"My dear, that dress is simply _stunning_, who is it by?" one of the women questioned. Loli vaguely recalled that her name was something long and old fashioned, Agetha, Arabella, or something of the like.

"I would recognise Collette's work from a mile off, Augusta, look at how well it suits Lady Darcy!" exclaimed another woman.

_Augusta_, that was it!

"Yes, it is one of Collette's," Loli replied politely. She checked the exits, before glancing out through the glass doors to the patio. Her husband was still talking to businessmen.

"I just _adore_ Collette's, work, but these days she's so difficult to track down!" exclaimed Addy, sipping her champagne, and tossing her golden hair back for probably the millionth time that evening. "Of course, it would be _no_ bother for Fitzwhitlam!" she added.

"Oh yes, and he has such _excellent_ taste in fashion himself!" commented Christina le something, eagerly raking her eyes over the very man's form through the patio doors.

"Tell me, is it _wonderful_ to be married to such a man?" sighed Frances what's-her-name, turning to Loli curiously.

"It's been very wonderful so far," Loli replied, with a small smile as she glanced out at her husband. He caught her eye, oblivious to all the other women staring at him, oblivious to the men talking to him, and looked at her with the same expression he had sent her when he first saw her in that dress, a combination of awe and desire. She softly bit her lip and smiled, and his intense, smouldering gaze returned. She used to think that expression was one of disdain and anger. To a degree, it was. But he had confessed to her that he wasn't angry with _her_, he was angry that she was wearing clothes. That sent a shiver down her spine, and she had to pull her eyes away, before she spilled her champagne over her dress and had to leave the party early.

On the other hand, that could be a very good idea…

"God, if only _my_ husband looked at me like that," Augusta commented enviously.

"If _my_ husband looked like Lord Fitzwhitlam Darcy, I would have no need for the pool boy, the driver, the mailman or his brother," Terra something or other practically moaned.

"Tell me," Addy said in a low voice, leaning closer to Loli. "It is _marvellous_?" she questioned, trying to be discreet, but it was perfectly obvious that every other woman in the room had heard.

Loli's jaw fell, and her eyes widened.

"I – I –" she stammered, unsure of what to say.

"It's quite alright, Lolita, we're all women here," Augusta added.

"What was your first time like? Was he romantic? Is he _amazing_?" questioned another woman, whose name might have been Harriet, but it could have also been Hilary.

"Is he… well endowed?" Christina inquired with a smirk, taking another glance back out on the patio. "I bet he is. And a man that looks like that – he _must_ be very skilled," she added.

"I – err… it's – umm…" Loli said awkwardly, blushing red.

"Is he gentle?"

"Are you kidding? A man like that – no, he's much too exciting!" cried Frances.

"Is he very demanding? A morning, noon and night sort of man?" Addy asked, her voice low, but urgent with a desperation for knowledge. Loli bit her lip nervously.

"What does he look like naked?" Harriet/Hilary questioned. Loli glanced back at her husband, a look of desperation on her face. He sent her a quiet, comforting glance, which soon turned into another one of his 'smouldering gazes' that Chandra had been so preoccupied with. Every woman in the room sighed.

"Does that tell you enough?" Loli questioned them, a small, secret smile dancing across her lips.

"Come on, _please_, don't keep us in the dark!" begged… Evangeline, was it?

"We _promise_ not to tell," Addy threw in. Loli sighed.

"Suffice to say, I am very, _very_ happy," she said simply, hoping that it would silence their horrible questions. God, he hadn't told her that they would want to talk about _that_. The women tittered.

"I _bet_ you are!" Augusta practically squealed. "And with such a pretty, young girl like you? God, no wonder he took himself off the market," she sighed, drinking in Loli's appearance enviously.

"How do you keep your skin looking so fresh?" Christina inquired, practically emptying her champagne in one go. Loli was somewhat reluctant to drink hers, since the Wickham ordeal she hadn't been terribly enthusiastic about champagne.

"Uh, I keep it clean, and I wear a lot of sunscreen," she explained, shrugging.

"You must be the _luckiest_ woman in the world, so young, so pretty, and with a husband like Fitzwhitlam Darcy!" cried someone who's name started with a Z. It was either Zelda or Zora, something like that…

"I feel very lucky," Loli smiled softly. "He's a very wonderful man, and he's very good to me, I'm deliriously happy," she added happily.

"It also helps that he's _gorgeous_, and so rich!" Christina added.

"Oh yes, that doesn't hurt at _all_," Addy said, with a wide smile. Loli glanced up, a slight frown on her face.

"Oh, I don't really care about that, money doesn't matter very much to me at all," she replied. The group of women laughed.

"My, how pretty that sounds!" laughed Evangeline knowingly.

"Oh hush, she's young and in love, these things don't matter to pure little girls like her!" scolded Addy, with a smile still on her face. "She's much too innocent to be tainted by the curse of money!" she added, placing a hand on Loli's arm.

"But _still_, what I wouldn't to do have a man like your husband…" sighed Christina dreamily.

"Well, unfortunately he's off the market, but I'm sure he'd appreciate the thought," Loli replied cheekily, as the girls practically exploded into fits of giggles.

"Oh my dear, such wit!" Zelda/Zora exclaimed.

"You should spend more time with us, Lolita, it would be _so_ lovely," Addy said with over-the-top warmness, once again placing her hand on Loli's arm. "_So_ lovely," she repeated, before sending a rather obvious glance out onto the patio.

"Honestly Adelaide, give the poor child a break!" came an exclamation from the doorway. Addy's head raised immediately with a toss of gold curls, and her painted red lips broke out into a wide spread grin.

"_Magy_! Oh dear, you simply _must_ meet Lolita Darcy – she's a gem," she announced, rising to her feet, and crossing the room to greet the new comer.

She was a tall woman, with an olive complexion and piercing amber eyes. Her hair fell down in a mass of blue-black curls, her cheekbones high, her lips thin, but she held her head high in a manner that allowed them to curve well, paying good compliment to her face. She, like every other woman in the room, had a disproportioned figure, with her tummy tucked, her ridiculously long legs, and balloon sized breasts. She wore a dark green halter neck dress that hung beautifully about her body, killer high heels, and on her arm stood an elderly man with a greyish face. He immediately headed straight for the patio, but the woman walked over to Addy with long, graceful movements. She looked to be in her mid thirties, maybe a little younger, but held herself with grace and wisdom that the other women didn't have.

"Ah, so _this_ is the famous Mrs Darcy," the woman said, in a low, almost husky voice, smirking as she examined Loli. For some reason, this woman's gaze unnerved her, she wanted to shift away, but she held eye contact firmly. She crossed the room, and took a seat on the chaise next to Loli, examining her like a curious bird at the zoo.

"It's a pleasure," Loli said, although she didn't really feel any joy at the meeting. Something about this woman was… strange.

"Magy Lafine-Shelley," she introduced herself, with a wide smile that seemed too much like a smirk to be sincere.

"Lolita Gar – I mean, Darcy," she replied, shaking the woman's hand lightly.

"So… you're the woman who took Great Britain's most eligible bachelor off the market," she declared. Loli felt her cheeks burn slightly, but she didn't turn away, only held her jaw firm.

"I am," she replied civilly.

"And tell me, where is your husband?" she questioned, with another false flash of pearly whites.

"Outside, with the other men," she replied. Magy glanced out to the patio, raking her eyes over Darcy's form, before returning to Loli. "Are you two acquainted?" she asked pleasantly. There were a few muffled giggles from the other ladies in the room.

"Ah, yes, we were," Magy replied, with a small smirk. "Not that he would… well, it seems clear that he has other things on his – _mind_, now," she added.

Loli wanted to scowl, she wanted to hit the woman, because something in her manner of speaking suggested that she was a _bad_ person, but she bit her tongue.

"How is Percival, Magy?" Addy questioned curiously.

"Old, decrepit, wealthy," she replied simply, practically waving the question off. She appeared more interested in Loli than her friends in the room. "And how is your husband? It's been a while since I've seen him," she questioned her.

"He is fine, thank you," she answered, trying not to let her tone reveal how much she disliked the woman already.

"Might I say, you look stunning. Clarity's photos don't do you justice," she commented, with another sick little smile. Loli blushed slightly.

"Thank you, it's nice of you to say," she replied, biting her lip cautiously.

"And you still look so slender, too! How far along are you?" she questioned curiously. Loli frowned.

"I – I'm sorry?" she replied, her mind reeling. "_What_?"

"Of course, you can't be very far along at all, you still look _so_ thin, are you eating well?" she questioned, trying to act concerned.

"I – I'm not pregnant," she replied, her frown growing. Magy smirked knowingly.

"It's quite alright, we're all women here, Lolita," she said patronisingly. "You were married not quite a month ago, right? So it can't be less than six weeks, am I right?' she questioned.

"But I'm not pregnant, I'm really not," she stated firmly. "Is this because Whit and I married with a quiet ceremony?" she questioned, her tone starting to sound slightly angered.

"Don't you mean a 'shotgun'?" offered Christina, with a small giggle.

"I'm not pregnant, I swear," she said honestly. "Whit and I sort of… it was a spur of the moment thing, we weren't pressured to do it, we just didn't want to wait," she explained.

"If you say so," Addy said soothingly. Loli wanted to fume with rage. How _dare_ they? "It must be terribly important for Darcy to have a son, though. Oh, you simply _must_ name it after him! Fitzwhitlam is such a strong, powerful name," she continued.

"Nonsense, it would probably be something lovely and sweet, like 'Apple' or 'Mango'," Zelda/Zora objected.

"No, after his father, I think, and a girl after his mother," Augusta interjected.

"If it _is_ a little girl, we simply _must_ pair her up with my Crispin, he's _such_ a dear," Hilary/Harriet said excitedly.

"Nonsense! Jacob is going to be a _very_ successful businessman, just like his father, any little Darcy girl would love him _instantly_," Frances assured them.

"You know," Magy declared suddenly, "I'm rather surprised. I heard that you were sweet and beautiful, but I never believed it. I never really thought that Darcy would be taken with someone as… _innocent_ as you," she announced.

"Oh yes, everyone always thought it would be the bad girl that finally captured Fitzwhitlam Darcy!" exclaimed Christina. "Perhaps he prefers it this way," she added.

"He's controlling. Perhaps he decided to find a little girl who he could… _possess _with little resistance," Magy offered.

"_No_, that's not it at all!" Loli exclaimed. Magy sent her another fake, sympathetic smile.

"It's quite alright, my dear, we all know his… character," she said soothingly.

"And Magy knows a little bit more than that!" a woman in the group tittered with a high little laugh. Magy smirked, and tossed back her dark curls.

"Ladies, the Master has a new Mistress now, please, respect this," she said, in a patronising, teasing manner. The other ladies chuckled.

"Lord, it's been _so_ long since he's had that nickname!" Addy laughed.

"Not so long, you know," Augusta countered. "Ah, but time does fly these days," she sighed.

"Oh I _know_, one moment you're young and ripe, and the next you're worrying about children and husbands!" threw in Evangeline.

"Oh, don't frighten the girl, she must be terrified already, what with a baby coming at such a young age," chastised Magy in a faked stern tone.

"But I'm _not_ pregnant," Loli objected. She glanced back out onto the patio; the men looked like they were coming indoors.

"Then why did you marry so quickly, so young, so quietly, and why haven't you touched your champagne at all?" questioned Magy pointedly, her voice losing any false sympathy or faked kindness. It was cold, cold and angry. Loli held her gaze firmly, determined not to submit to the older woman.

"Ah, ladies! Are you enjoying yourselves?" Mr Chagny questioned, approaching the group, several husbands walking up to their wives.

"Yes in_deed_, Mrs Darcy is _such_ a lovely young woman," declared Addy. "Fitz, you really have yourself _quite_ a catch," she praised, as the man himself moved towards the group, glancing at his wife in concern, not noting anything else in the room.

"Now Whit, you've been in the room for two minutes, and you haven't even said hello to me _or_ your wife," Magy announced, her smirk returned. He blanched ever so slightly, and took in the person sitting next to his primary concern.

"Magy," he said quietly, in surprise, but there was also distaste hinted in his voice. "Uh – I assume you've met Lolita?" he questioned, glancing with concern back to Loli, who was looking between the two with confusion.

And then it hit her.

She was _that_ Magy.

"Oh yes, she's a joy," she replied, rising to her feet elegantly, and crossing the room to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. He looked uncomfortable at the touch. "Percival, let's leave," she ordered her greyish husband. He looked disappointed, but was well trained, and did not argue.

"You're leaving already?" pouted Addy, standing up.

"I'm afraid we must be leaving too, Adelaide," Whit announced. "Lolita, come, I'll call the driver," he said quietly to her. She stood up, and stepped towards him, still staring in confusion between him and Magy.

"It was a pleasure to meet you," she said to Addy, who smiled with her wide red lips.

"And I you! We simply _have_ to get together sometime soon dear!" she declared. Loli smiled slightly, but her mind was too full to make any arrangements.

"Of course. I hope to see all of you soon," she said to the other ladies, before Darcy took her arm, and lead her to the entrance of the house, where the attendant was fetching the coats for Magy and her greyish husband.

"Ah, Mrs Darcy! It was a _pleasure_ to meet you," she said, turning to Loli, who tried to hide back an instinctive urge to either step back behind her husband, or slap the woman.

"And I you," she managed to get out, but something about the woman put her off. She shifted her amber eyes over towards Whit, sending him what could very easily be construed as a seductive gaze, but his expression held only disgust. He placed a hand around Loli's waist.

"Magy," he acknowledged pointedly. Magy looked slightly offended for a moment, but she hid it well, and turned back to Loli.

"And don't worry about it, no one judges you," she said in her false, soothing tones. "I hope it's a lovely little boy, just so those vultures in there don't try and marry him off before he's even born! They have more respect for boys, you see," she explained. Loli's cheeks burned angrily. "Ta-ta then! It was a pleasure," she said finally, before taking her husband's arm, and slipping out of the house, into the night.

Loli bit the inside of her cheek angrily, and crossed her arms against her chest. The most upsetting part was that she felt like that _Magy_ woman was more attractive than she was. She had grace and elegance, wisdom of age.

"Something you're not telling me?" Whit questioned, glancing at her face momentarily.

"They all think I'm pregnant because we married quickly and quietly," she muttered angrily, her cheeks burning, and hot tears stinging her eyes. "They kept on talking about baby names and marrying it off," she continued bitterly.

"Ah," he replied, as if he were partially amused, partially concerned. "Yes, I thought that would be the case," he confessed. She looked up angrily.

"And you didn't tell me? I had to sit there and let them keep on going on about it!" she said in irritation.

"Lolita," he said tiredly, accepting their coats from the attendant, and placing her shawl around her shoulders. "Darling. It's –" he tried to explain, but stopped, thinking of what to say as he led her out of the building, where the car was waiting. "You didn't need me to tell you. You could handle it, and I knew that," he said simply. "You really impressed me tonight. You handled yourself with grace and maturity, but you didn't go overboard like those other women," he praised.

"I hated it in there," she admitted quietly. "They kept on asking me questions about our sex life –"

"I think 'mind-blowing' pretty much covers it."

"Funny. Really," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. He hid back his small smirk. "And they talked about you like you were some sort of trophy, or a prize, and they seemed to… it was just _weird_, and that _woman_ – Magy –" she continued angrily, shaking her head and almost trembling in anger.

"I know. I can't believe that I ever involved myself with someone like her," he muttered, sounding angry with himself. His statement assured her that he had no feelings for the woman, but it was still disconcerting.

"She's very beautiful," Loli muttered quietly, her voice weak and insecure.

"Not as beautiful as you are," he said simply. She blushed, and shook her head.

"No, she was… really gorgeous. I can understand why you dated her," she continued. Half of her statement was a lie, the woman was very attractive, but she couldn't understand why he dated her at all.

"Lolita, I can't stand that woman. But _you_," he said, stepping closer to her, and holding her chin up with his hand, meeting her eyes. "You're impossibly beautiful. Tragically. Wonderfully. Amazingly. Your gorgeous hair, your perfect eyes, those plump little red lips that I could kiss for the rest of my life, everything about you is a million times more beautiful than she is, and to top it all off, you're also kind, loving, intelligent, funny, sexy, talented, and I love you," he stated, passing his lips over hers incredibly lightly, so she could feel the warmth more than she could feel his skin.

"She was elegant, graceful. I can't be like that," she managed to get out, when she had remembered how to use words. He sighed lightly.

"You might think that. But to me, you're elegant and graceful, a million times more so than she is," he assured her. "You have no reason to feel insecure, _yes_, she and I were involved for a while, but it didn't take long before it was just torture to me," he explained.

"I felt like I was some novelty item. They kept on patronising me, calling me a 'little girl', and saying that I was too 'pure' and 'innocent' for you," she muttered bitterly, not sure why they were having this conversation outside someone's home whilst the car was waiting, but she felt like she needed to get it all out before they could go any further.

"And that's what's been upsetting you," he stated knowingly. She nodded. "Loli, listen. I'm older than you, and more experienced in most things. I won't deny that," he began quietly. "And yes, as much as you think it's an insult, you _are_ pure and innocent," he explained. She scowled in irritation at him. "It's not meant to be offending, well, perhaps they meant it as an offence, but you have to understand, most of these women were sleeping around, trying to land rich husbands since they sixteen, and I know for a fact that most of them are _still_ sleeping around, even though they're married," he continued. She bit her lip softly.

"That was certainly the impression they gave," she muttered. He took a step forwards, and placed a soft, comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You're _so_ different to them, and for a while, if you had told me that I was going to marry a woman about a dozen years younger than me, with a limited experience of life and no experience of sex, I probably would have laughed at you," he admitted. She frowned slightly, but met his eyes. "But to me, it just makes you more perfect. You're perfect because you're still innocent. The behaviour of these women shocked you tonight, and that's wonderful. It means that you're the furthest thing away from _them_, and I wouldn't have you any other way. I haven't thought about Magy for years. I left her because I knew _you_ were coming, and I wanted to be ready to deserve you," he continued, softly stroking her cheek. "And I need you to know that I'm very proud of you. Tonight you proved to me, to everyone else in the room that your maturity far surpasses theirs, and what you keep on assuming is just immaturity and childishness is innocence. And I'm honoured to be your husband," he added quietly.

"T – thank you," she whispered softly, her eyes shining with new found love for him. It flooded her senses, almost overwhelming her. "Woah. You're talking a lot," she smiled. "Were _they_ terrible boring?" she questioned. He gave a small, breathy chuckle.

"The usual. How I'm so lucky to have such a young, untouched bride, what a gorgeous figure you have, how you'll bear me good sons," he joked, rolling his crystal eyes.

"God, what _is_ it with everyone and kids these days!" she exclaimed. He gave another breathy chuckle.

"Nothing, it's just been this way for a long time. People want sons to compete with, and to give money to," he explained. Loli raised an eyebrow.

"And you?" she questioned. He shrugged.

"I'd like a little girl," he replied, with a tiny smile. "With beautiful blue eyes and gorgeous scarlet hair, just like you," he added warmly. "I would be very happy with a little baby girl," he assured her.

"I think I could handle just one," she said thoughtfully.

"Well, I think two or three little girls would be good," he mused aloud. "And a boy or two would be lovely as well," he added.

"Uh… how about a cat?" she offered hopefully. He chuckled.

"You know, when this court case is over, maybe we should… well, go and see the doctor, and talk about the precautions we have to take before you can get pregnant," he suggested.

"We can talk about them, but I'm _not_ having kids yet," she said warningly. He gave another chuckle.

"That's okay, but I'd like it if we could start trying as soon as possible," he informed her.

"Good then. We'll buy you a uterus and _you_ can carry the thing around for nine months," she retorted.

"I guess this another one of those 'we'll talk about it later' matters," he responded with a small smile.

"Yes. _Definitely _later, _much_ later," she said decidedly.

"You know I love you, right?" he questioned suddenly. She smiled, and passed the tiniest of teasing little kisses over his lips.

"Yes. Almost as much as I love you," she replied. "I like seeing you like this. I mean, we're at a _party_, but you're… well, open," she explained. "I like it when you talk like this, however seldom it might be," she added playfully, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"The past five minutes of conversation was probably the longest declaration of love I've ever given you," he muttered thoughtfully. Loli smiled teasingly, and leaned forwards.

"Come on, let's go home and finish what we started earlier," she said decidedly, pressing a short, teasing kiss to his lips. He responded eagerly, but she pulled away playfully, practically dragging him to the car, and sliding into the back seat.

"Put the screen up again, and take the long way home," he muttered to the driver, who nodded. He slid back into the backseat and shut the door behind him.

**A/N: See that pretty little button that says 'review' down there? Click it! See what it does! :D**


	42. We all make mistakes

**A/N: Okay, so pay no attention to the seasonal-timeline that I had. Well, don't completely disregard it, but the thing is, I want to include Christmas into this story, and I kind of forgot (I know how stupid this sounds) that in England they're backwards, and Christmas is around winter, not summer. So, yeah. It might not make too much sense, just don't over think it…**

Loli couldn't help sigh sadly when she reached over in bed, not to find her husband, but a post-it note.

_Good morning beautiful,_

_Didn't want to wake you, gone to work._

_I'll probably be late tonight._

_I love you._

_-Whit_

She hid back a frustrated cry of annoyance. For what felt like the millionth time that week, she had woken up alone. She knew that he was busy, what with the appeal starting in a few days. But still, they hadn't even had time to discuss the matters that had been 'put on the shelf' after the party at the Chagny house. She understood he was stressed and tired. His nerves had been put completely on edge when she fainted briefly a few days ago, and apparently a letter bomb addressed to Loli had been stopped at the mail office. He tried to convince her to stay with her stepmother for a few days, just until things calmed down, but she's refused. As a compromise, she had agreed to work full-time from home until the appeal was over.

She sat up miserably. She'd been so bored that she had already finished all of her work commissions for that week, _and_ the next. She couldn't leave the house by herself, all of the maids were terrified of talking, and she didn't even have Mrs Reynolds to talk to, because she was back at Pemberley.

She was _lonely_.

She got out of bed, feeling downright miserable, and soaked in the bath, wondering what she could do to liven up her day a little.

As she opened her wardrobe, aimlessly considering what she could wear and what she could do, a brilliant idea came to her.

'_I'm bored. Are you doing anything today_?' she texted Richard quickly, hoping that he was still being lazy and living off his sizable trust fund and stock investments, and not actually _working_.

'_Am I EVER doing anything_?' he responded quickly.

'_Wanna come over? We can mess up Whit's socks and then go shopping for something he'd hate_,' she suggested, grinning at the thought.

'_God, a woman after my own heart. I'll be over there soon, get started on unfolding his handkerchiefs. He hates that_,' he replied quickly. Loli laughed at the thought, and put down her phone. She was smiling as she dug out a pair of jeans, and one of Whit's plain, un-collared one hundred percent organic cotton shirts. She chuckled as she slid on the large, soft white shirt. She owned shirts that looked exactly the same, if not a little smaller, and cost only one tiny fraction of the price, but his was ridiculously expensive, only because it had a tiny little brand name in the corner. She slid on a pair of black All Stars and ran a brush through her hair, delighting in dressing simply again.

"Oh goodie, you're wearing his clothes. _That_'ll mess him up," Richard said gleefully about fifteen minutes later when she opened the door to greet him. "So, he's working _again_, and left you to fend for yourself?" he questioned, stepping into the house.

"I'm getting used to it now," she replied, shutting the door with a sigh. "But I didn't have anything to do today, and I'm _really_ bored," she explained. Richard laughed.

"Yes, I can imagine that much," he commented. "So, whilst driving over here, Squishy my love, I had a _brilliant_ idea," he declared, with an evil little grin.

"Oh good, it is a _fun_ brilliant idea, or a sick and twisted one?" she questioned. He smirked.

"Well, I've kind of forgotten it, but that doesn't matter. I know that it required shopping, however, but I'm sure we can sneak out for the day, I'll protect you from the big bad monsters," he declared. "So, upstairs, grab a coat, that husband of yours will probably kill me if you catch a cold," he urged her. She rolled her eyes, but grinned with anticipation for doing something exciting for the first time in what felt like months.

She hurried upstairs, and dug through her wardrobe, looking for something warm. Most of the clothes in there were brand-new, Darcy had ordered her thousands of pounds worth of clothing, and she hadn't even had a chance to _look_ at it all, let alone wear it. She pulled out a very nice looking jacket, navy blue, with lapels, a clinched waist, and big, elaborate gold buttons. It looked very cute, sort of a regency sailor kind of look. She glanced at the label. Dolce and Gabanna. She should have known.

She pulled it on quickly, and swiped a little bit of makeup onto her face, just enough to make her look presentable, before grabbing a large black bow for her hair, and clipping it on in haste. She picked up her purse and rushed downstairs, where Richard was trying to work out how to use the coffee machine.

"Honestly, it's a friggen spaceship!" he exclaimed, poking it with an empty mug. Loli hid back a giggle.

"You haven't even plugged it in," she pointed out.

"I know, but I want coffee, so it's supposed to give it to me," he explained, glancing back at her. "No winter Lolita?" he questioned with a small grin.

"Oh yes, there's plenty, but I feel like wearing jeans today. Oh, that reminds me, we have to buy Whit some jeans," she added. Richard laughed.

"Why don't we buy him a leather jacket and a personality, too?" he questioned teasingly. "He'd never wear them," he pointed out. She shrugged.

"He would if I asked him to," she replied confidently. He raised his eyebrows at the challenge.

"It's a deal then. And just for fun, let's buy him jeans that _don't_ cost more than a car!" he suggested gleefully. "But can we get coffee first?" he questioned.

"We could get milkshakes, just to mess things up," she suggested. His eyes glimmered with delight.

"Ha! Honestly, I should have married you before my stupid cousin did, we could have been _so_ happy," he sighed. Loli hid back more laughter. "Well come on then, we have a whole day of doing what Whit considers uncultured to go through!" he said decidedly, grabbing his coat, taking her arm, and leading her out of the house.

Loli couldn't help but smile the whole day. Being with Richard was like being with the older brother that she'd never had, but always wanted. He was funny, light, teasing and playful, but he also adopted the big-brother sort of protectiveness of her, she noticed him constantly glancing around through the busy London streets for any signs of trouble, and stayed close to her the whole day.

"So how are you enjoying married life then, my dear?" he questioned, as they sipped from jumbo-sized raspberry slushies later that afternoon.

"I'd enjoy it a lot more if Whit wasn't working so much, and if I were allowed to go back to the office," she replied honestly as they walked through the darkening streets, peering into shop windows occasionally, but mostly enjoying the cool evening air and the break from being stuck in the house for so long.

"He's just worried about you," he laughed in reply. "He cares for you more than you understand. He just wants to keep you safe," he explained.

"I know, but… it's just that he doesn't let me make any decisions about my safety, _he_ makes them all," she sighed. "It's like he doesn't respect me sometimes," she admitted.

"Have you told him this?" he asked curiously in response. She shook her head.

"Well – sort of. I'm waiting until the appeal is over to see if it's just his nervousness with the whole Wickham thing, but if it _isn't_, then things are going to have to change," she answered.

"Do you regret getting involved with him?" Richard asked curiously, his silliness forgotten for a moment. He _did_ have his serious moments occasionally.

"No, I don't regret anything about our relationship," she answered firmly. "I can't wait until this whole appeal thing is over though," she confessed.

"Ah yes, Whit mentioned that I might have to hold the fort for a little while whilst he whisks you away to – Sicily, I think it was," he commented with a small grin. "But somehow I doubt that you two will be interested in the scenery," he commented. She rolled her eyes.

"Perv," she teased. He chuckled, not really offended.

"So, where to for dinner? There's a decent noodle bar up the street, and for fifteen pounds you get a meal, a drink, and a movie ticket," he informed her.

"Well of _course_ we have to go to there then, and we have to see a movie too, Whit won't be back until late tonight," she declared.

"Well then milady, onwards we venture!" he cried delightedly, pushing forwards through the dwindling crowds of people, grins plastered over both of their faces.

It was about nine thirty that they got back to the townhouse, still laughing and drinking from their second jumbo-sized slushie each, both clutching giant stuffed plushie dolls that they had won from a Time Zone arcade.

"Do you think he's home yet?" Richard asked in a hushed, giggle filled whisper.

"Probably not, he normally comes in at about eleven these days," Loli replied, pushing the front door open, and stepping into the brightly lit hallway, still chuckling.

"Come on then, we still have to mess up his socks!" Richard urged, pushing her forwards, holding his giant Alex the Lion plushie under his arm.

"Richard, you have a _hell_ of a lot of explaining to do," came an angry, rough voice as they stepped into the house.

"Ah! Whit, you're home then!" Richard replied, his grin fading slightly.

Loli wanted to shrink away in terror. Her husband looked absolutely livid, his eyes dark with anger, his tie gone, sleaves folded up, his hair dishevelled as if he had been running his hands through it all night, his arms crossed against his chest, practically radiating fury as he glared at his cousin.

"What the _hell_ were you two thinking?" he questioned furiously.

"It was my fault, I ­–" Loli tried to begin, but she was silenced by Darcy's angry glare.

"Lolita, go upstairs. I'll talk to you later," he snapped.

"Whit, it was fine. Nothing happened," Richard said calmly, keeping his voice steady and even, meeting his cousin's eyes.

"You _idiot_, she could have been killed!" he cried angrily in response. "Every fucking criminal in _London_ has a mark on her, I had _no_ idea where she was, I had _no_ idea where _you_ were – and why the hell did you leave your phone in our room?" he questioned Loli.

"I forgot to grab it, I'm sorry! I didn't think you'd be back until late!" she argued. "But – but Richard had his with him!" she rationalised.

"Err… perhaps I should have taken it off silent," the man murmured, taking his Blackberry out of his pocket, and peering at it curiously. "Oh. Wow. _Lots_ of missed calls," he commented.

"I can't believe you Richard – _she_ can be excused, _she_ doesn't know the full extent of the situation!" Darcy cried angrily. "But you've been fully briefed; you _know_ what's going on! How could you do this? What possessed you to act so _stupidly_?" he questioned incredulously. "Lolita, _go upstairs_, I'll discuss this with you in a moment!" he practically growled at her.

"It was my fault! Richard didn't do anything wrong, I _asked_ him to come over because I had no one to talk to!" she cried, stepping forwards.

"Loli, he's right, I shouldn't have –"

"Shutup Richard, you _know_ it was my fault," she objected.

"Lolita, _go upstairs_, I need to talk with Richard," Darcy barked, still glaring at his cousin with darkly flashing eyes. "I had every fucking police station in London send out someone to look for her, and she was with _you_ the whole time? How _dare_ you!" he cried furiously.

"What, Whit? How dare I look after your pretty little wife? How dare I be a friend for her?" Richard questioned in quick response. "You just don't _want_ her to have friends or family, you don't want anyone else to care for her because you're so damn paranoid that she won't need you! You spend so much time trying to stop her from being in danger that you don't even realise how lonely she is right now!" he cried. Darcy's eyes flashed darker. "She's sacrificing _everything_ for you, and you can't even tell her the full situation!" he continued.

"She's tired and she's _sick_, Richard! I'm looking after her – she knows everything she needs to know to keep herself out of trouble – and then _you_ come waltzing in, trying to screw everything up!" he argued.

"Do you know why she fainted the other day, Darcy? She told me. It's because she's so worried that you're working yourself too hard that she can't sleep or eat properly!" Richard snapped. "How the hell do you even _deserve_ a woman like her? She thinks that you don't respect her because you can't include her in decisions about her _own_ safety!" he cried.

"Don't you _dare_, Richard. She's _my_ wife, and from now on, _I_ will be responsible for her safety – _not_ you!" he said curtly. "She shouldn't be leaving the house at _all_ until this appeal is over – and even so, what the hell were you thinking, a whole day of walking around London when she's been sick recently?" he questioned angrily. "She isn't another one of your stupid girlfriends, and you had a responsibility to look after her when I couldn't be around, but you ignored the responsibility I gave you," he said coldly.

"She looks better than she's been since you started this tirade of yours – she just needed a day out to collect her thoughts. You should be _thanking _me," he threw back in return.

"Thanking you? For betraying the trust I put in you? For putting my wife, the most precious thing in the _world_ to me at risk?" he questioned. "For almost giving me a heart attack when all I could do was sit around, waiting, _praying_ that she isn't dead?" he continued. "She's _everything_ to me – and you put her in danger, with _no_ consideration for her, or for me!" he cried angrily.

"Just because you put a ring on her finger doesn't mean you own her, Whit," Richard practically spat. "She has friends and family that care for her too, they should be just as much a part of her life as you are," he snapped. "She just wanted someone to talk to. I took the necessary precautions, I kept my eyes open, I didn't leave her side the whole day. If you keep on acting like a complete and total _pig_ to her, then she's going to start leaving the house more often, _by herself_, and if she gets hurt, then I swear to God – I _will_ blame you," he finished angrily.

The two held their gazes, both glaring at each other furiously, the tension in the room almost enough to be cut with a knife.

"Loli, go upstairs. _Now_," Darcy ordered, not breaking eye contact with his opponent.

"No."

"Lolita, this is no time to argue, just do as I say!" he barked back.

"He didn't do anything wrong Whit – you're just angry that maybe, just _maybe_, what he's saying is right," she argued. He broke eye contact with Richard, glaring furiously at her instead.

"Loli, perhaps you should stay with Chandra and I tonight," Richard suggested calmly. Darcy sent him a withering, fiery glare.

"_She_'s in no danger from me, Richard," he said coolly. "Loli, just go upstairs, no more arguing," he snapped, his tone hinting at weariness.

"Not until Richard goes – I'm not letting you punch him," she said sternly. He sent her another silent glare, but didn't respond, only turned, and walked through the hall to his study. "Sorry about that," she apologised tiredly to Richard when the door had slammed behind her husband's retreating figure.

"He's right, we shouldn't have gone out. But he's wrong, too," he replied, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "Don't let him boss you around. He's worried, but that's no excuse for being a prat," he said. She smiled softly, and nodded, stepping forwards, and giving him a hug, still holding her plushie and oversized Styrofoam cup. He gave her a short smile and a wink, before he left the house in silence.

Loli sighed, and walked through to the kitchen, and put the slushie in the bin. She put the giant pink and white penguin toy she had won on the table, and then made her way to her husband's study, knocking quietly on the door. She heard no response, but pushed it open regardless.

He was sitting on his desk, staring out the window into the dark, abandoned street. She closed the door quietly behind her.

"Sorry," she said simply. "I shouldn't have asked him over, but I – I just needed to talk to someone," she explained. "I didn't want to bother Joan, she's got her plate full with Clarity and Cale, and I knew Chandra was working, so I just… I needed to talk to someone, Whit," she explained. He ran a hand over his face, and then through his hair.

"This was worse," he replied, his voice sounding slightly choked.

"Worse than what?" she questioned lightly, stepping forwards.

"When I found out that you were in hospital because James had tried to poison you, I didn't think that _anything_ could be worse than what I was going through at that moment," he began tiredly. "But I knew that you were in a hospital, I knew that you were going to be okay quite quickly," he continued. "But tonight…" he trailed of, sounding like a wounded animal.

"I didn't know you'd be home so early," she said quietly.

"For over _four hours_, I had no idea where you were, what had happened to you, if I was ever going to see you again," he replied, his voice trembling with anger and the remaining fear. "I can't do this," he said quietly, leaning forwards, resting his head in his hands.

"Whit, I'm sorry, but I can't sit around here all day! It's just torture for me!" she cried angrily. "I _need_ to have at least a _degree_ of freedom, I can't just stay indoors for the next two weeks!" she continued, stepping forwards, but not daring to go to close to him until he had said something.

"And I can't lose you!" he practically roared, standing up, and turning to face her, his expression reflecting his tone, one of deep rooted sadness and fear. "And if I have to spend everyday for the next two weeks worrying about whether or not you're going to be _there_ when I come home, then you're not giving me any other options," he continued painfully.

"What are you going to do, chain me to the staircase?" she questioned him pointedly. He turned back to his desk, and pressed the intercom button on the phone.

"Yes Mister Darcy?" came the chirping voice of one of the maids.

"I would like you to go into the linen closet on the second floor and take out the suitcases," he began, trying to keep his voice calm. "Pack all of Mrs Darcy's things, and then call her mother and stepfather, and tell that that she's going to be staying with them until the appeal is over," he continued, his tone strained as Loli let out a cry of objection.

"Are you serious?" she questioned angrily as he turned of the intercom. "How could you do that? I'm your _wife_ – you can't just send me away!" she cried.

"I would rather it if you were in a different country and _safe_ than if you were here, dead," he snapped in response. "You'll have to use the company's jet, or else Wickham might be able to track you down," he added, placing his hand on the side of the desk, as if it were keeping him steady.

"I'm not going," she said firmly.

"Wickham is going to be staying in London until the end of the appeal. You'll be safe in Paris until it's over," he said steadily. "You can leave tomorrow morning," he decided.

"I'm staying in London! I refuse to go just because you say so!" she cried, her eyes flashing angrily.

"If it were me, what would you do?" he questioned suddenly.

Loli bit back her next cry of objection. What _would_ she do?

"Stop it," she urged him quietly, hanging her head and clenching her hands together, trying to stop hot tears from spilling from her eyes. "Stop it!" she cried, trying to get the thought of the man that she loved more than anything else in the world being in danger out of her head. "It's not fair, just stop it!"

"I would never forgive myself if you died," he responded firmly, but his body was almost trembling.

"But _you're_ in danger too," she argued. "I can't leave, what if he hurts _you_? He wants to kill you too!" she cried.

"We've taken precautions. He couldn't kill me if he tried," he replied quietly.

"And you can't take the same precautions with me?" she questioned, almost tearfully. He shook his head.

"We took every precaution we _could_ with you, and yet you could have been killed today, and we wouldn't have been able to do a thing," he said sadly. "We can't get a restraining order for Wickham to stay away from you, because we can't prove that he's tried to hurt you. I have body guards. I have a restraining order. I have fucking bullet proof vests – but we can't _do_ all of that with you, I tried – I've had people watching whenever you leave my side for _months_, today's slip-up shouldn't have happened, but it _did_, and now _you_ need to face the repercussions of your actions! _I_ need to do what's best for my family, and if I can't keep you safe _here_ then I don't have anymore options!" he cried.

"I'll stay inside, I'll stay at home, just don't send me away," she begged quietly. He shook his head.

"No. I should have done this a long time ago," he replied. "Loli, I _love_ you, but I just can't lose you," he said softly.

"But I don't want to go, I don't want to leave you," she practically wept, stepping closer to him, her eyes pleading. "I don't want to be away from you for over two weeks, not knowing if you're okay, now knowing if you need me," she said quietly, pressing her head against his chest.

"I don't want this either, but there's nothing else I can do now, I've run out of options," he muttered into her hair.

"What, so I have one more night with you, and then I have to leave? I may never see you again!" she objected.

"Lolita Darcy – I _promise_ that you will see me again," he swore. "I'm not going to die, and neither are you. Please stop crying, I don't want to carry this image in my head for the next two weeks," he said softly, brushing a thumb over her cheek, and over her lips. "I need you to be strong so _I_ can be strong. Or else we'll have no hope," he whispered, leaning forwards, and brushing his lips over hers.

"What happens if you lose the appeal?" she questioned softly, raising her still tearful eyes to meet his. "Will I be able to come home?" she asked.

"We won't lose," he said firmly. She bit her lip softly.

"But if you _do_?"

"We _won't_. Not with what's at stake now," he answered with determination. He leaned forwards again, and pressed another kiss to her lips, this one firm, as if to convince her completely.

She just hoped that he was right.

~ * ~

He took her small, pale hand in his as they walked across the black tarred surface of the runway in the still very early morning, so early that the darkness hadn't even faded from the sky. She shivered in the cold, wrapping her coat tighter around her small frame.

"Mister Darcy, the pilot said that he's ready for takeoff whenever your wife is," a man announced, stepping towards them. He wore all black, as did the other man behind him; dark sunglasses covering their eyes, and Whit could feel his wife stiffen slightly when she caught a glimpse of the gun on his belt.

"Thank you. Lolita, this is Kyle Algernon, and this is Christopher Blakes, they'll be your body guards in Paris," he informed her, squeezing her hands tightly. "Don't let their clothing intimidate you; they're both complete and total juveniles. I thought that they could entertain you a bit," he added, with a small smile. The two men chuckled.

"Dammit, and we almost had the tough guy routine going for a full minute," the second man cursed, Christopher.

"Don't worry; you'll be perfectly safe with us. We've escorted people over boarders hundreds of times," the first man, Kyle assured her. "One of these days we've got to get it right," he added cheekily. Loli gave a tiny, somewhat forced smile.

"Gentlemen, I think I need a moment with my wife before she gets on the plane," Whit said, noting her facial expression. "She'll be ready to go in a few minutes," he informed them.

"Right then, we'll be testing out the mini-bar on this flying restaurant," Kyle said decidedly, grabbing his partner's arm, and pulling him towards the small, sleek black jet.

Whit sighed when they were out of earshot, and turned towards Lolita quietly, trying not to let his face reveal his true emotions. It would be an awful shame for him to cry in front of her when she needed him to be strong for her. She looked up at him with her beautifully blue eyes; they seemed to be pleading with him, begging him not to make her go.

"It's for the best," he said softly, taking both of her hands in his, and entwining their fingers. "Your parents will take good care of you. And don't worry about work or anything like that, just relax, and spend time with your family," he said softly.

She didn't say anything, which was unusual for her. She blinked back tears, but they caught onto her coal-black eyelashes and almost strangled them, so they looked like drowned little bats clinging to her eyelids. He realised that at such a crucial moment in their so far short marriage, he shouldn't be focusing on her eyelashes, but it was all he could do to stop himself from taking her in his arms and leaving the airport with her tossed over his shoulder. Because he very much doubted his own ability to survive the next two weeks without her. She had become his oxygen, his life force, and he didn't even know if he _could_ survive without her.

"I want you to get plenty of sleep, and eat right, and don't forget your meds, and I'll call you every moment that I can, a – and if _anything_ happens that concerns you, contact me immediately," he said, swallowing rather obviously. He wondered if he could talk about trivial matters until she got on that plane, because if he did, then perhaps her leaving could remain something trivial to him, something casual, and it won't mean all that it really _did_ mean. It would be like she were just going for the afternoon, and he would see her very soon.

He wished that she would say something to make it easier.

"And if you miss me, let me know, okay? Just call me, talk to me, talk to me about _anything_, I'll always be there," he assured her softly. He pulled one of their entwined hands to his face, and kissed her palm and her wrist, and then placed it on his cheek, closing his eyes to savour the feel of her skin against his, because he knew that for what would feel like the longest time, he wouldn't be able to feel that.

He heard a quiet, muffled sort of sob, and he wished that he hadn't, because that wasn't helping. He wasn't that surprised that the sob was from him, not from her, and all he could do was pull her as close to his body as possible, so close that he may have been hurting her, but neither of them really cared.

He met her lips in an almost bruising kiss, desperate to have her near, but it was never going to be near enough, not until he could say that she wasn't going to be leaving, not until it was just them, no one else, no airport terminals and no court case and no criminal psychopath, just two bodies and one heart beating for the both of them. Her arms wound around his neck, one hand burying in his hair, and his hands dove beneath her coat, running up her back, twisting around her waist, sliding into the back pocket of her jeans, tangling into her hair, slipping over the smooth little slither of skin beneath the dark blue shirt she stole from his wardrobe because she said it 'smelt like him', anything to feel like she was close to him.

After what felt like both an eternity and a fraction of a second had passed, reluctantly they let go of each other, both crying, both breathing heavily.

"It's just two weeks," he reminded her softly, and she nodded.

But he felt somehow, like it was much more than that.

"I love you," she whispered quietly against his chest. The words were made all the more important with the fact that they were all she had said since they woke up in a state of tangled limbs and sheets that morning, they were all she was able to say.

"It's time," he replied softly, painfully. He released her from his grip, and squeezed her hands in his one more time. "I love you," he said, and she nodded, before she turned away towards the plane.

She had barely taken three steps when he reached for her wrist, and pulled her quickly to him again, catching her lips for a repeat of what had taken place only a moment ago.

She broke away from him much too soon.

"Sorry – this is just – it's only going to make it harder," she whispered quietly. She leant forwards, and pressed the lightest of kisses to his lips, just passing over them, really.

And then she was gone, and the plane was shrinking away into the distance, taking her further and further away from him until he couldn't see it at all.

He had never felt so alone in his entire life.

**A/N: Aww, angst…**


	43. Distances

**A/N: My exams are over! Joy! *does little joy dance* So I want to finish this over the next two weeks, but I promise (well, I hope) that my writing won't suffer, I'm not bored with it anymore, so it should be reasonably up to scratch :D**

"You and the boss were pretty hot and heavy back there," commented Kyle as the jet maintained a steady state in the atmosphere.

"Seriously, I thought he was going to whip it out on the runway right there," Christopher added, spinning around on one of the plush suede covered chairs that littered the inside of the jet. It was very nice, finely decorated with large, comfortable seats, carpets, a TV, a bed, a kitchen, and a bathroom in the back.

"Had no idea he had it in him, really," Kyle threw in, tossing a skittle up in the air and catching it in his mouth.

Loli stared out the window to the disappearing scenery below her. She couldn't see him, but she was pretending that the little dark blob on the stretch of grey beneath her could be his car. When she couldn't even see the stretch of grey, she sighed, and turned away from the window, sinking her small form into the overly squishy recliner chair that almost swallowed her up completely, because that was what she wanted. She wanted it to swallow her and then spit her out, so she could fall out of the sky and into his arms.

"Come on love, it's two weeks. I know you're still newlyweds, but consider this a test or something," Kyle tried to sooth her. She glanced over at him. He had a warm, friendly sort of face, with dark brown eyes and slightly blonde hair that curled into tight little spirals. The other man, Christopher, was still spinning on one of the chairs. He was tall and broad, like Kyle, but his skin was much darker, the colour of rich chocolate, perhaps. His hair was shaved close to his head, and he had a goatee.

"You don't say much, do you," commented Christopher, stopping his spinning for a moment. He looked rather dizzy, and wasn't focusing on her properly.

"Normally I do," she replied quietly, pulling her knees up beneath her chin, and trying to sink further into the chair so she could just disappear completely.

"So how long have you two been married?" Kyle asked, trying to change the topic.

"Almost two months now," she answered, staring at her left hand, where the two rings that she never took off sparkled.

"Shame we weren't invited to the wedding," Christopher practically huffed.

"We hadn't even _met_ her yet, you dope," Kyle pointed out. Christopher shrugged.

"_Foresight_," he said wisely. Kyle rolled his eyes. "Hey, should we like, brief her, or something?" he questioned suddenly.

"Good idea," his companion agreed. "Okay, so we've talked to your parents and all that jazz, we're going to be staying in a bungalow they have behind the main house, we checked it out on google earth, and it should give us a good view of the perimeter," he informed her. "There shouldn't be any threat to your safety there, but Darcy wanted to be safe, not sorry," he added.

"Sounds good," she muttered, barely hearing them at all. She glanced out the window again; the morning was breaking and light starting to stream through the clouds that they were skirting over.

"Listen, Mrs Darcy," Kyle began, his tone serious, for the first time since she had gotten onto the jet. She glanced over at him. "This is going to be tough, I know. You're worried about him, he's worried about you, neither of you want to be apart, but when you look at it, you're going to be spending the rest of your lives together, two weeks is barely a little blip in comparison to sixty odd years," he assured her. "And we're going to be spending the next two weeks together in _Paris_ with you, so consider us. It's going to be dead boring if you're crying into your croissants and frommage," he added, with a small grin.

She smiled softly.

"You can call me Loli," she replied. Christopher gave a triumphant cry.

"So there _is_ life!" he rejoiced. She laughed at his comical expression. "The easiest thing to do is to pretend we're your big brothers or something, not body guards," he assured her. She nodded. "We're both your over protective, highly trained killing machine brothers, and take no notice of the difference of races. I'm white at heart," he assured her cheekily, his dark eyes sparkling.

"That'll cause a problem, because I'm Japanese at heart," she replied, with a small laugh.

"And I'm really Aztec. I cut people's hearts out for ritual sacrifice," Kyle boasted sarcastically.

"Hey, the cutting-people's-hearts-out doesn't bother me, you guys invented chocolate," she replied. He chuckled deeply, and threw up another skittle in the air, catching it with his mouth again.

"So how the hell did you get old man Darcy to crawl out of his shell?" Christopher questioned, standing up, and searching through the cupboards and drawers in the small kitchen.

"Yeah, I mean, I've never seen that guy even _smile_, I thought he was cold as ice until a few minutes ago," Kyle added. Loli shrugged.

"He still hates strangers, and he's very aloof when we're around other people," she answered. "But… he's different around me," she said simply.

"You could say that again," Kyle muttered. "So what's it like, living with one of the richest guys in England?" he questioned curiously.

"Oh, it's not as exciting as you think," she assured him. "He's _always_ working, or with his legal team, or his accountants, and the novelty of being able to buy things that you don't want or need wears off very quickly," she added. "Besides, sometimes it's just plain annoying. And he gets all huffy when I prefer to use my _own_ money! I mean, I know that he provides for me completely, but I _like_ using my own money, I don't want to be another one of those gold-diggers who laze around the house all day!" she continued, finding enough energy to talk, energy that she thought had been drained from her the moment she left Whit's arms.

"Yeah. It must be _really_ annoying, being able to buy whatever you want," teased Christopher. "Just yesterday I was telling my butler how annoying wealth was, whilst enjoying a meal of caviar, lobster, saffron and truffles, completely drenched in champagne," he raved sarcastically.

"He lives with his mother. Not because he can't afford to move, just because he doesn't know how to cook or clean for himself," Kyle informed her quietly. "And he doesn't have a butler. He had a dog, however," he added.

"Who is _called_ 'Butler'," Christopher said proudly.

"Whit has dogs at Pemberley. But they're all big scary things, and they've all got really masculine names like 'Diablo' and 'Conrad' and 'Wolf'," Loli informed them. "I'd like to get a dog. A small one. With a _cute_ name," she added.

"Ahh… what exactly is your definition of 'cute'?" Kyle questioned cautiously.

"Let's just say that if I had _my_ way, we'd have about five dozen of those cute little ugly things that look like they're walked into a wall, all named after various Pokemon," she replied. He shuddered.

"That's an image that's going to haunt me till the end of my days," he muttered.

"Overdose on skittles and all the memories with fade away," Christopher said in a sing-song voice. Loli laughed as Kyle tried to put the entire pack of skittles into his mouth at the same time, and practically choking on them as he went.

She glanced back out of the window, seeing nothing but fluffy white clouds and the rising sun.

She missed him more than she really understood, but she couldn't help but smile with the realisation that he had done this to give her the space he thought she needed as well, the big brothers to talk to, the parents to lean on and the little siblings to care for.

She just wished that he hadn't misunderstood her meaning.

She didn't want to talk about her fears and apprehensions with temporary big brothers, friends and family, she wanted to talk about them to _him_.

She refused to fall back into melancholy. There was nothing she could do until the appeal was over, so she had to make best of the situation.

"I bet I could eat a pack that size quicker than you," she challenged Kyle, who was swallowing down the last of the multi-coloured beads of sugar. He raised an eyebrow, wordlessly accepting her challenge.

"Chris, two more packets please," he requested from his companion. "We have a little competition on our hands," he declared, with a wide grin, his teeth stained all the colours of the rainbow.

Loli smirked, not showing any fear to her opponent.

"You're going _down_," she assured him, as she accepted the packet from Christopher, challenge glinting dangerously in her eyes.

~ * ~

"Daddy! A car! A car!" squealed Nathaniel, rushing out of the house as the large black sedan Loli was seated in drove up the drive of the pretty little Villa that her mother's family called home.

She jumped out of the car almost immediately, rushing up the gravel path to the little boy, who was dashing towards her in a flash of auburn hair and freckles, leaping into her arms, tackling her to the ground.

"Should we take him down?" Christopher joked as he got out of the passenger's seat of the vehicle, trying to keep the atmosphere light whilst he scanned the area.

"I dunno, he looks like he could take _you_ down," Kyle replied, cutting the engine, and opening the driver's side door.

"_Loliiiiii_!" came an excited squeal, as another boy, almost identical to the first, apart from his hair being a much darker shade than his brother's, came running out from the house, joining the assault of kisses and hugs on his sister.

"God, you two boys are getting so big!" she exclaimed as they pushed her to the ground with their enthusiastic greetings. The two boys giggled happily as she tickled their stomachs, and tickled her back with their childlike fingers.

"Did you bring us presents?" Ezekiel questioned excitedly.

"As a matter of fact, I _did_," Loli replied. "They're from Whit and I, he said that since he missed all of your birthdays before, he should get you guys some _nice_ presents to make up for all those years he didn't know you," she informed him playfully, before they gave more excited squeals and threw themselves onto her.

"Did you bring Whit? I like Whit!" Nathaniel questioned quickly.

"No, he had to work," she replied.

"Well dat's okay, cos he doesn't share you with us," Ezekiel rationalised. "My tooth fell out!" he cried, after a moment's thought. He opened his mouth wide for her perusal, and she noted the gap at the front of his mouth.

"Good for you! Did the tooth fairy give you anything good?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Five Euro!" he replied, beaming childishly.

"He bought gummy bears with them and he shared them with us!" Nathaniel informed her excitedly. "When _my_ tooth falls out, I'm gonna buy sour worms!" he declared.

"Only da blue and pink ones though!" Ezekiel assured her.

"No wonder their teeth are falling out," Christopher muttered.

"Whose _dat_?" Nathaniel questioned Loli quietly, staring over at the two men shyly.

"Oh, they're spies! They're here to make sure that no bad guys come to France!" Loli assured him. "They're going to be staying in the bungalow out back so they can watch over the whole city!" she added.

"_Woah_!" the boys cried in union. They rushed immediately to greet the 'spies' as Loli got back up on her feet.

"There's my little girl!" came a cheerful greeting. Loli glanced back at the house, where Edgar was coming out, holding a squirming toddler, Eve.

"Père!" Loli cried warmly, rushing towards Edgar. She had started calling him 'Père' when he married her mother and they moved to France, to show him that she accepted his entrance into her life, but reserved the title of 'Daddy' for her biological father. Edgar had gladly accepted Loli as his daughter, and often told his friends and business associates that he had five children, not just his biological four. "Oh you're getting big!" she said warmly to little Eve, after hugging her step-father tightly.

"Loli!" she demanded, holding her arms out. Loli gladly took her, and the toddler wrapped her arms around her neck tightly. "Missed you," she declared. Loli chuckled.

"I missed you too!" she replied, patting back the girl's beautiful auburn curls.

"Where Whit?" Eve questioned shyly. Loli smiled.

"Whit has to stay in England, but sends his love! He said that you have to come to Pemberley soon, because he wants to let you have another try of riding a pony!" she answered happily.

"Whit miss me?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course he does!" she assured her. Eve beamed.

"Me wanna talk to Whit on the talkie-fone!" she announced. Loli laughed.

"Well, when I unpack, and talk to Mummy and Daddy, we'll call Whit on the talkie-fone and tell him all about what a big girl you're getting to be!" she promised. Eve's smile grew, and she once again threw her arms around her sister's neck.

"How are you?" Edgar asked with quiet concern etched across his face. Loli smiled weakly.

"I'm fine. Angry, but I know that this is what's best," she sighed.

"I must admit, I'm slightly tiffed at the boy, but he's doing this to keep you safe," he admitted. "But still, you haven't even been married for two months, and you're already in a completely different country," he added gruffly.

"I should have respected his wishes for me to stay inconspicuous, but he should have respected _me_ and told me what was really going on," she sighed. "We were both in the wrong, and we're both suffering from this. But at least we're both still alive, that's something to be happy about," she added, with a small smile. Edgar scanned her face for a moment, sighed, and then kissed her cheek.

"My strong little girl," he sighed. "Well then, I had best talk with your 'spies', your mother and Magdalen are due back any minute, they went out to do some grocery shopping, you should get settled whilst I'm briefed," he decided, patting her shoulder, before heading over to Kyle and Christopher.

Loli enlisted the assistance of her two little brothers to help her bring in her luggage, and even Eve got down and carried Loli's purse happily.

They all managed to get the bags into the small but sweet guest bedroom that Loli would be sleeping in with little trouble, and immediately started helping her unpack, playing with her clothes and belongings like they were toys for their own perusal. Loli laughed as they all tried on her shoes, which were about twice the size of their feet.

"Moon! Moon! Are you here?" came a cry from downstairs. Loli immediately stopped unpacking and rushed into the kitchen, which her mother and Magdalen had just entered, putting the shopping bags down on the bench. Loli practically jumped into her mother's arms, burying her head in her shoulder and hiding back soft cries.

"I missed you Mum," she said quietly, but her mother knew full well that it was only the half of it.

"Oh, sweetheart, my little baby, darling," she cooed softly, stroking back her hair smoothly.

"He_llo_! Hug _me_!" ordered Magdalen sharply. Loli and her mother both laughed, and separated. Loli sunk down to her knees, and wrapped her arms around her little sister warmly. "Can you stay forever?" she asked her hopefully. Loli smiled softly, and smoothed back the little girl's hair.

"But Whit will miss me too much," she reminded her. Magdalen rolled her eyes.

"Who cares! I got'choo first!" she argued. Loli laughed, and pressed a little kiss to her sister's forehead.

"We'll see, hun," she replied.

"Can we get out presents now?" Ezekiel asked hopefully from the doorway. Loli glanced around, and smiled.

"Sure! They're all upstairs, let's go get them," she said, rising to her feet as all the children, even Eve, rushed towards the stairs. She glanced back at her mother, who gave her a small smile.

"Come on then, let's go look at their presents, and then you and I need to have a nice long talk over some tea and chocolates, okay?" she suggested. Loli nodded, and gave a strained smile, heading upstairs to the guest room.

She and Whit had picked out the gifts for her brothers and sisters a few weeks back, Loli g assuming that they were going to be Christmas gifts, but Whit seemed determined to spoil them, and suggested that they send them over post-haste. She argued against that, saying giving them presents for no reason would cause more trouble than it was worth.

"You'll spoil them, they'll get used to it!" she had argued, putting the bags in the bottom of the closet so they could await Christmas time.

"Well why shouldn't I? What's the point of money if I can't spoil my family?" he questioned her. She sighed.

"Showering small children with gifts is a _bad_ idea. You have no idea how easily they resent you when you don't give them presents _every_ time you see them," she said sternly.

"Well then, I _will_ get them presents every time I see them," he responded, crossing his arms. She rolled her eyes.

"God, if we ever have children, they'll be the most spoilt little brats in the world," she sighed, shaking her head at the thought.

"_When_ we have children, they'll be the _happiest_ little brats in the world," he corrected her.

"Not if you're going to be buying them everything that they look twice at," she muttered sarcastically. He sniggered, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Then I guess you'll be the one practicing temperance," he commented.

"Who would have thought," she laughed, leaning forwards, and pressing a light kiss to his lips.

She smiled softly at the memory as her brothers and sisters all tore at wrapping paper and opened boxes. Nathaniel got a large red fire truck that he could sit in and pedal around with his feet, winding it up like clockwork, before it would speed off by itself, and Ezekiel got the same, only as a police car. They immediately got into their 'vehicles' and starting 'driving' up and down the hall, making siren noises with the upmost delight. Magdalen received a beautiful little yellow dress, complete with stockings, shoes and a little tiara, making her look just like a little Lolita Princess.

Eve couldn't have been more delighted with her present. Whilst it seemed smaller than the gifts that the other's had been given, Loli knew that it meant a lot to the small girl. It was a sketch book and a box of watercolour pencils of the finest quality. Whit was under the impression that she had a lot to say, she just didn't have the words to say it with, so he was quite sure that it would open up a new side to her. She immediately opened up the pencils and started to draw in her new book, whilst Magdalen preened and pranced in her new dress and the boys raced each other up the hall.

"Let's go to my studio, we won't be interrupted there," Loli's mother said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Loli turned her head away from her beautiful siblings, and smiled quietly, following her up the stairs to the loft that she had claimed as her 'studio'.

It was a wide, open space, with plenty of ventilation and light streaming in through the windows; it was where Madison Gardiner could _really_ let her creativity run wild. Fabrics, ribbons, sewing machines, easels with designs set up on them, and all sorts of bits and bobs that she found as inspiration to her work littered the room. It was where Loli's mother made up her designs before they were modelled and put into production for the small Paris-based fashion label that was steadily rising in popularity.

"Now then. Talk, sweetheart," Loli's mother requested as they sat down on one of the couches, after shifting over a roll of fabric. Loli didn't say anything for a moment.

"I love him. But I'm angry at him," she stated suddenly, her voice rough with honestly. "God, I had to struggle to stop myself punching him in the mouth when we argued last night, at first I just stopped myself from killing him because Richard was there, and I knew that he'd hate to think that he'd caused any trouble, but when we were talking in his office…" she murmured quietly.

"Why didn't you?" Madison asked curiously. Loli shrugged.

"Because I knew that he was right. That it's dangerous for me to stay in England, but the point is that I don't care about that anymore, I'm so sick of _everything_ but him now," she explained, sighing softly. "I hate his world. It's full of idiots, and it upsets me that he fits in there. He _knows_ how to act, what to do, what to say, but even if I wanted to, I'd never be able to do that," she continued.

"Well why bother if you don't want to be a part of it?" Madison questioned softly. Loli gave another small shrug.

"Because… I resent him. I resented him from the moment that we met, I judged him on his wealth and position, and almost as a _rule_ I hate rich snobs, I don't resent _them_ – I just hate them," she admitted tiredly, staring before her as if she were seeing more than just piles of pale yellow satin. "I'm vain. I know that. But Whit always seemed so mature, so posh, so conceited, all I cared about was being superior to him in the only way that I knew how, and… now I'm starting to realise that even though he's stupidly over controlling and so used to getting his own way, he's _my_ superior," she sighed finally.

"_No_, that's not true, you're just as good as he is, darling," her mother assured her. Loli gave a small chuckle.

"I don't mean all that emo, self pitying crap, I mean that he's experienced, he knows what he's dealing with, and I actually _resent_ him, because he's looking after me the best way he knows how, and even though all I've ever wanted is independence, he's doing a _much_ better job than I ever did," she replied, her voice starting to grow choked, hot tears stinging her eyes.

"You looked after yourself wonderfully, sweetheart," her mother crooned softly. Loli shook her head.

"_No_, Mum, I never looked after myself – I kept alive, I entertained myself, I lived for _myself_," she replied heatedly. "And I entered a marriage – _stupidly_ – thinking that I didn't have to change myself for him, that we were perfect the way we were, I never realised that marriage is _so_ much more than just living together and sharing a name!" she cried shakily. "I keep on sabotaging myself because I _hate_ the world that he's thrown me in, I hate stupid parties and stupid women and stupid attempted murderers, but I _knew_ what I was getting into," she continued forcefully. "I _knew_ that there were going to be parties and society people and danger, he gave me an opportunity to put this off for a little while, but I just _had_ to be impulsive and stupid, I just _had_ to prove that I was mature enough to do this!" she cried.

"Do you regret this? Do you want to divorce him?" Madison questioned carefully. Loli shook her head firmly.

"I don't regret it. It was a mistake, I should have thought more, but I don't regret it," she answered, wringing her hands together, a tear finally sliding from her powder blue eyes. "And I stopped myself from arguing with him because I _knew_ that I don't regret this, I _knew_ that this is what I wanted, this is what I _want_. He may boss me around to no ends, but I love him – and _I_ made this decision, knowing the consequences, and if I were to sulk and complain like I'd been doing one more time, then I wouldn't even _deserve_ him," she continued, wiping away a tear.

"You're being too hard on yourself," her mother soothed her softly.

"No! No I'm _not_!" Loli objected, angrily, her composure starting to slip away. "I was so stupid and blind – and now I'm suffering for my own stupidness, and I'm making the man that I love suffer too!" she wept. "And he's been _so_ good to me, if you only knew what he's done for me, for Joan, even for Wickham…" she cried softly. "And all I've ever done was push him away! I didn't even know I was doing it, but I was so selfish – he was coming home late and worried about his baby nephew, and all I could do was think of _me_, think of how bored _I_ was, of how lonely _I_ was, I shouldn't have gone out by myself, and I shouldn't have dragged Richard into it – I've been _so_ stupid, Mum," she continued. "And now all I can do is pity myself! I don't even know _why_ he loves me," she finished miserably.

"_No_, Loli, you're not pitying yourself," her mother said firmly. "You're recognising the mistakes you made, and you're accepting the repercussions. He loves you because you're able to do this," she continued, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"I wanna go home – I _need_ to be with him," she practically whispered, her body shaking with silent sobs.

"It's only two weeks, Moon. I know it came at the wrong time, and I know that things are strained, but you two will be fine. You love each other too much to let this damage what you have," she assured her. Loli sniffled, and ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm so angry with him. I _know_ how good he is, but I'm still angry. I'm furious. Am I just a child to him that he needs to protect?" she questioned softly, leaning forwards, her elbows resting atop her mid-thighs, her hands supporting her head as her red curls fell like a curtain around her. "I kept on trying to prove to him that I'm an adult, that I need his _love_ and his _respect_, not protection, but every time I tried I just screwed things over again," she continued. "And I know that he does it because he loves me, but that doesn't make things better, that doesn't take away the fact that to him, I'm incapable of running my own life," she practically whispered, mostly to herself.

"It seems to me like you're in a bit of a tight situation, my dear," Madison sighed. "You love him completely, but you don't feel like he respects you, and you keep sabotaging your own happiness because you don't think that you can live without his respect," she stated. Loli slowly nodded. "When you two go back to London, and this whole horrible ordeal is over, things are going to change. He won't _need_ to protect you, and it time, the respect that you need will come," she explained.

"Do you think so?" Loli questioned hopefully. Madison nodded, smiling broadly. Loli sighed wearily.

"There's still so much that we have to deal with. Dad, for one," she commented. "And his family. He hasn't even told them that we're married, but Lady Ekaterina is all the way down in the Riviera so she has no idea, but he has a lot of family in Russia, and some up in Northern England, and when they find out… God, it's going to be hell," she sighed.

"And that will be the perfect opportunity for you to show Whit that you're a mature adult, and that you can handle his family, and that'll certainly help you gain the respect you want," she said steadily. Loli laughed quietly.

"It's good to have someone who can see the bright side around again," she informed her, straightening up, and smiling.

"So. What now?" Madison questioned, giving her daughter a comforting gaze. She took a deep, thoughtful breath before replying.

"Well, I'm going to call him, I'm going to be supporting, and I'm going to be honest with him. If the topic of his lack of respect comes up I'll discuss it, but it's something we need to talk about face to face," she decided firmly. Madison smiled, proud with her eldest daughter.

"He's lucky to have you," she assured her. Loli laughed, and stood up, kissing her mother on the forehead.

"Thanks, Mum," she said warmly, before they left the loft.

Ten minutes later, Loli was sitting in the guest room, Eve on her lap, playing with her pencils as Loli dialled her husband's number on her mobile.

"Lolita? How was the flight? Are you okay?" she heard him question the moment that he picked up, about halfway through the first ring.

"I'm fine, I got home a little while ago, Mum and Edgar are talking to Christopher and Kyle about the security, Nate and Ezie are racing each other in their cars, and Magdalen is practising ballet in her new dress," she informed him. He gave a deep sigh of relief.

"So you're fine? How was the flight? Did you get dizzy? Did you have to use the oxygen masks?" he questioned. She laughed slightly at his concern, but answered all the same.

"No, I just ate an entire pack of skittles, and I beat Kyle _so_ badly, I was halfway through mine before he opened the pack," she replied proudly. He chuckled.

"Well, that's my girl," he murmured, and Loli's heart did a little leap.

"And there's someone here that wants to talk to you, too," she added, her nervous excitement shining through in her voice.

"Really? Who?" he questioned bemusedly. Loli just grinned, and put the phone on speaker.

"Go on, he can hear you," she said softly to her little sister, who took a deep, apprehensive breath.

"Thanks," Eve said bravely into the mobile.

"Eve? Is that you?" he questioned almost incredulously. Loli realised that this was the first time he had ever heard her talk.

"Yes! It's me!" she assured him, starting to grin. "Thanks for… da pencils, and book too! I drew you a picture," she informed him.

"Really? That's so lovely of you," he replied warmly. Loli could tell, even through the phone, that he was smiling.

"Here, I'll send it to you," she announced, picking up Eve's sketchbook, and opening it up to the first drawing she had done. She took a quick photo with her phone whilst Eve told her brother-in-law about how pretty the pencils were, and how lovely and smooth the paper felt, before she emailed it to him quickly.

"Eve? Did you really do this?" she heard Darcy question from the other line. "It's beautiful! You're a very talented little artist," he assured her.

"Aw, she's blushing," Loli laughed, as Eve beamed, her cheeks bright red.

"And is that you wearing the pink dress?" he questioned.

"Yes!" she replied gleefully.

"And who's that tall, dashing young gentleman standing next to you?" he asked, his tone revealing that he was still smiling.

"You!" she cried happily.

"_Me_? How nice of you," he thanked her. "You're a wonderful artist, just like your beautiful big sister," he assured her.

"Me missed Loli," Eve admitted to him. "You gonna take her away again?" she asked fearfully.

"Eve, hun, I live with Whit now, he's my Prince Charming, and I'm his Princess, and we live in a beautiful castle, but your always welcome to come there," Loli explained to her sister.

"What Princess?" Eve questioned curiously, stroking her sister's hair. "Air Elle," she almost whispered.

"I agree Eve, she looks very much like Ariel," Darcy commented. "So do you understand that Lolita lives with me now?" he asked her softly.

"Mmm…" Eve murmured in the affirmative, snuggling up against her sister's form. "I wanna live in a castle. In a castle with you and Loli," she said quietly.

"But what about your Mummy and Daddy's castle?" Whit asked amusedly.

"You talk pretty. Pretty mouth words. I love you, big brother," Eve said suddenly, Whit unable to say anything coherent for a few seconds.

"E – Eve, that means a lot to me," he informed her finally, his tone filled with warmth and sincerity. "I love you too. You're a very special little girl, and I'm glad that you think my mouth words are pretty," he added.

"Me sleepy now," Eve whispered to Loli.

"That's okay, you can go have a nap if you want, I know what Whit was very happy to hear from you," Loli replied softly, brushing her little sister's hair back smoothly.

"Bye-bye Whit, love you," Eve said finally into the phone.

"Bye-bye Eve, it was very lovely to hear from you," he replied warmly, as Eve slid off her sister's lap, taking her sketch book and pencils, and toddled from the room. "Ohhh… it was never like that with Gigi," he sighed into the phone when the door had closed. "Gigi loved me anyway; she was shy, but very open with me. But I had to work for Eve to open up," he said incredulously.

"You certainly made an impression on her," Loli commented with a small smile.

"That drawing she did is very impressive for a three-year-old, she's certainly got your creative streak," he commented. "That certainly made my day," he said happily.

"So. The appeal starts the day after tomorrow," she stated.

"Two weeks and one day before I get to see you again," he sighed, the happiness disappearing from his voice. "Callum and Gigi are arriving tomorrow, I'm sure they'll be disappointed to find out that they missed seeing you again," he commented.

"Does it snow at Pemberley?" Loli questioned suddenly. "I mean, I know it was pretty cold when we were there, but that was only autumn. So it must be _freezing_ up there in winter," she rationalised.

"When I was a child it snowed almost every Christmas at Pemberley, and I'm told that it normally settles in a few days before New Years," he replied.

"You're told?" she questioned.

"I – uh, normally we spend Christmas at Matlock Estate, it's further north still than Pemberley," he explained. "Or Gigi and I stay in London, sometimes Rosings. There hasn't been a Christmas at Pemberley for a while. Since my mother died," he informed her, with the slightest hint of awkwardness.

"I love Christmas," Loli informed him, smiling quietly. "There's a whole range of _gorgeous_ Christmas Lolita, and I really go overboard with the decorations and presents, it's one of the few occasions when I _actually_ cook," she boasted proudly.

"Where do you spend Christmas normally?" he questioned curiously.

"Oh, Paris normally, Dad always disappears around the holiday season, and Fanny hates having me around, so when Dad's not in the country she doesn't have to pretend," she answered nonchalantly.

"_What_?" he exclaimed. "That's just – that's –" he stammered, trying to find words.

"Seriously, don't worry about it. Fanny hates me. It's not exactly new information," she teased him in response. "So where do we go for Christmas this year?" she questioned.

"We're putting your stepmother on that shelf with things we need to discuss. And your father. And my Aunt Ekaterina. And my Uncle and Aunt. Oh, and my Aunt Ekaterina too," he listed roughly.

"That shelf is getting pretty full there, you know," she commented. "Can I add a few things to it?" she questioned nervously.

"Go right ahead, perhaps we should turn it into a room, not a shelf," he suggested.

"Your expectations of me as your wife, and the expectations of society and your family for me," she said, after taking a deep breath.

"I don't have any expe –"

"Please, Whit, not now. Not on the phone," Loli pleaded tiredly. "I can't do this over the phone. I need you here with me to do this," she said firmly.

"Alright. The day after we can see each other again we can sit down and talk about this shelf," he sighed.

"The day after? I kind of want to get it over with as quickly as possible," she muttered.

"Trust me. We _certainly_ aren't going to be doing too much talking when we see each other again," he shot back playfully. Loli laughed.

"And on that note, I have to go. I wanted to finish unpacking and have a bath before lunch," she sighed. "Can I call you again this afternoon? And tonight?" she asked hopefully.

"I'll call you – I kind of sent my legal team out when you called, so we might be a little behind schedule. I think I'm going to be in this room for a while," he explained.

"Whit! You're in the middle of a meeting?" Loli questioned incredulously, to which he sniggered.

"I'd much rather talk to you than sit in a stuffy board-room my dear, I can assure you," he replied cheekily. "But I'm afraid I have to go too. I've kept them waiting long enough," he sighed.

"I agree, poor legal team. Apologise to them for me," she scolded him teasingly. "I love you, Whit," she added.

"I love you too, and I miss you terribly already," he sighed. She smiled softly. "Go, have your bath," he urged her. "It would be too lecherous for me to suggest that you think of me whilst you're in it, would it," he stated.

"NS, Sherlock," she replied in her arching sarcasm.

"Is that one of those 'oh look at me, I'm perfectly fluent in all that SMS and MSN and AIM and SOS garbage' or one of those 'Scott Vanity' things that I'm yet to pick up on?" he questioned with slight concern.

"Okay, your homework for tonight is to use this amazing tool called the '_internet_', and access websites like Urban Dictionary, YouTube and MySpace, perhaps then you can sharpen your 'SOS' skills, because I'm sure that they're in need of some fine tuning," she teased. "Or perhaps you're more fluent in Morse Code," she jabbed.

"I'm not _that_ old," he retorted. "And I _do_ use the internet. Hotmail, Deviant Art, Wikipedia, it's not _that_ complicated," he defended himself.

"Wow. Deviant Art. A _recreational_ website. Impressive," she teased, and could almost feel him rolling his eyes, even though they were separated by hundreds of miles and the Channel.

"Actually, it's mainly for advertising. But the point still remains," he argued. Loli laughed.

"Go on, go back to your meeting. And we're going to have an all-out Christmas, by the way," she informed him. He chuckled.

"I'd like that. I'll talk to you soon," he said warmly, before they bid each other their goodbyes, and hung up.

Loli fell back into the bed with a soft sigh as she slid her mobile shut.

So what, they had a full shelf of things to talk about. How his naturally possessive and over-protective nature was going to effect their marriage, the issue of unequal respect, his family, her family, her roles in his eyes and in the eyes of the world, not to mention children.

She wondered which ones she could push off the shelf, that she could ignore, because the shelf was starting to buckle under the weight.

She didn't really want to talk about Fanny and her father. It was no longer important. He had walked out on her, and this time it seemed like it could be once and for all. His family was another issue, they couldn't just ignore that. She knew they could almost definitely cross the children thing off their list, they both knew she was too young to consider it.

She smiled softly. The shelf had just been lightened considerably.

Or at least enough for her to survive the next two weeks without pulling her hair out.

**A/N: Yay, a little bit of mother-daughter talking there, just to reassure you all that Loli isn't losing her spark :D And yes, Whit is going to be a bit of a jerk over the next few chapters. Sorry about that! ^__^ I love you all, thanks for reading!**


	44. Losers, weepers

**A/B: Hmm… I'm sleepy… ^0^ I wanted to say now thank you for all the kind reviews and shows of support I've been getting, it all means so much to me :D you have no idea how it brightens up my day :D**

Loli stared at her phone.

She more than stared, she _glared_, willing it to ring, willing it to do something.

Because he had asked her not to call, he said that he would ring the moment that the court session ended, the moment that they heard the final verdict.

But, she thought, glancing at her watch, they should have already finished…

She was filled with fear and apprehension, because the thought of them _losing_ the case had barely entered her mind as a possibility, and however unlikely it seemed, she certainly _was_ considering it.

She bit the knuckles of her hand, nervously awaiting the call.

She tried to calm herself. She knew that there wasn't a chance Wickham was going to win; her apprehension and worry were unfounded. She was being irrational, she reminded herself. She just had to wait, he _said_ he would call the moment he could. She couldn't wait to talk to him, to _finally_ know that it was all over so she could get back to London, so she could get back to _him_.

The past two weeks had been… well, challenging to say the least. Loli had seemed to take on the role of the baby-sitter as her mother worked to the bone to finish the originals for her next collection, and Edgar was playing the over-protective father role by becoming as much a part of the security situation as he could, whilst juggling his full-time job running his expanding building machinery company. Loli had _offered_ to look after her brothers and sisters, but it was becoming rather taxing on her patience.

At first it had been lovely. She took them around Paris with her to see the sights and sounds, testing their French and knowledge of the world around them each day, dressing Magdalen and Eve to Lolita perfection (at their insistence, not hers, because she'd never hear the end of it from Whit if she were responsible for their 'conversion' to frills, bows and lace), and Nathaniel and Ezekiel as the cutest young gentlemen in Paris. She had endeavoured to view _all_ of the works in the Louvre, which meant coming back almost every day, and whilst at first her siblings had been willing participants, they very quickly grew bored of it. And boredom combined with small children made for an awful trip to the Louvre.

But whilst she felt like she has having it tough, being the run-around for her younger siblings, she knew that Whit was having it a million times worse. When they spoke over the phone he was tired and snappish, spending so much time either in conference with his lawyers or in court, trying to convince the judge and jury that Wickham wasn't suitable to be Callum's father.

She felt completely and totally helpless for those two weeks; her words of comfort were sincere, but not enough to calm him, to ease his suffering. She was just relieved that soon it would be all over, and the nightmare could end.

She wanted nothing more than to just go home with her husband, so they could finally have some time to work out the issues that they should have discussed before their wedding, so she could get back into work again and be a sister for Gigi, like she so desperately needed. What was more, she had been unable to contact Richard for the past two weeks, and desperately wanted to talk to him. Brief conversations with Chandra revealed that he wasn't doing too well, but whether or not it was due to her own fault she couldn't tell.

The only positive thing that seemed to emerge out of the two weeks of torture was the steady development of Joan and Cale's relationship. They were still rocky. It was hard for Joan to forgive him for not trusting her, for misjudging and treating her so poorly, but Loli was certain that they would be fine, they both cared about each other too much to walk out of each other's lives.

But still, hearing second-hand news of the lives of her friend's and family wasn't particularly fun for Loli. She knew that she had been making herself sick with worry, she wasn't sleeping or eating right, she had been moody and irritable, which was precisely what her over-protective husband had been trying to avoid. But she couldn't help it; she needed to be there for him, she was still so angry at what had happened! She wanted to be in _England_, not France; she wanted to be by his side!

The eventual ringing of her phone almost gave her a heart attack, and she practically fell off her bed with surprise. She quickly scrabbled upright to reach it, sliding it open with more haste than she had devoted to anything else before.

"Whit! What happened? How's Gigi? Are you safe? Can I come home now? Is there anymore danger? I checked the airport times, I can leave the Paris International ­–" she started to blabber, before she was cut off by her husband.

"Lolita, you – you can't come home," he said steadily, but she could tell immediately that it was strained, something was wrong.

"Wh – what? What are you talking about?" she questioned incredulously, frowning. "Whit? I – I want to come home, I need you! I need to be there for you, and for Gigi!" she objected.

"Loli, listen carefully. I've already contacted Kyle and Chris, and I'm going to be sending another two men to Paris, they should be there in a few hours," he informed her, trying to keep his voice calm.

"What happened? D – did we lose?" she questioned. "But we can't have! Wickham raped your sister, how can he get custody of her child?" she demanded.

"It was decided that he is _legally_ recognised as Callum's father, and whilst he has no custody, he has to pay child support, and gets a small degree of control over any decisions made concerning Callum's welfare," he stated slowly, trying to keep his voice steady and even, but Loli could tell he was almost at breaking point. "The court appointed me as one of Callum's guardians and the negotiator between Wickham and Gigi, due to the suspected circumstances surrounding Callum's conception. Wickham has to deal with me in order to be a part in any decisions concerning him and his future," he continued, his voice growing more strained by the minute.

"W – what does that mean?"

"It means that Wickham is recognised by the law as Callum's father, but he only plays a small role in his life," he explained. "He needs to negotiate with _me_ in order to gain and rights to custody, because unless he has custody, he doesn't have control over a penny of Callum's inheritance," he continued.

"How's Gigi? Is she okay?" she questioned fearfully.

"She'll manage. She understands that it's quite likely she never has to see James again, and he may never see Callum, so that's comforting, at least," he sighed. "S – she's more concerned for you, actually," he said quietly, his voice choked.

"Me?" Loli questioned in a small, doubtful voice. She couldn't still be in danger, could she? No! She _needed_ to get back to London!

"James approached me after the verdict. He threatened you," he informed her slowly, painfully. "God Lolita, I'm so sorry for dragging you into this, I – I'm _so_ sorry," he murmured.

"What do you mean he 'threatened' me? Whit, I want to come home!" she cried.

"Loli – you're still at just as much danger, and the fact that we're married now, and that we married so quickly has just made things a million times worse – he can't kill me now, not until he's gained custody, and he _knows_ that I'd never allow it! _You_ pose the biggest threat – in order for him to gain control of the full Darcy fortune he needs to guarantee that I don't have an heir!" he argued. "I – I've missed you so much, and now you can't – it's –" he stammered, trying to keep his emotions under check.

"Well what do we do? What _can_ we do?" she questioned, beginning to pace anxiously. "What if we stage a divorce? Or if we make it look like we're trying to adopt a kid, he'll think I can't have children, and he knows that only a Darcy heir can inherit! Or we fake my death! Or –" she babbled on quickly, trying to find a way to get out of the horrible situation she was finding herself in.

"Loli, please, just _stop_," he begged her. She couldn't confirm it, but she suspected he was crying. "We can change the Family Laws," he said decidedly.

"But you've been _trying_ to do that!" she objected.

"Well we'll just have to try damn harder until I can safely bring my wife home!" he cried angrily. "And until it's been changed, we can't do anything else; you have to stay out of England. In two months my Aunt and Uncle are going back to Russia for an extended stay – you'll be able to live with them until it's safe again. They're good people, a – and they'll take care of you. I'm going to speak with Aunt Ekaterina; you'll be safer at Rosings than at your parent's home. I don't know if she knows about our marriage, but I can only hope that she puts any objections aside for the sake of your safety," he said quickly.

"_Two months_? How long is it going to take to change a few old documents?" she questioned incredulously.

"At the most, twelve months," he replied quietly.

"A year? A _year_? No! I'm sorry, but _no_!" she snapped angrily in return. "I've let you tell me what to do for the past few months, but I'm drawing the line here!" she decided. "There _has_ to be another way. I'm not going to be separated from you for a year because some crazy-ass prick can't get a fucking day job!" she snapped. "This plan sucks, Whit. What the hell am I going to do for a year? What about my friends, my family in England? So I can't see them again until this is over? And _Gigi_? We're sisters now, Whit! I can't just abandon her!" she cried. "And what about work?" she questioned.

"You've got to be kidding me. You're thinking of _work_? Loli – I have more money than you can spend in a lifetime, I've already shifted a million pounds into your personal account, you don't need to worry about it," he replied.

"I don't _want_ to depend on you! And I don't _want_ you to give me all that money when I'm not doing anything for it! We have to talk about this, we have to try and work this out!" she objected. "I'm not staying in Russia or France or wherever for a year!" she snapped.

"This isn't just your decision! Do you think I _want_ to be separated from my wife for a year?" he cried furiously in response.

"How is this _not_ my decision? This is my _life_ Darcy – we may be married, but that doesn't mean you have full control over me! We should be making this decision _together_, we should be looking at options _together_, but instead you're showing me the same complete and total lack of respect that you've shown to me a thousand times!" she objected. "I don't doubt that you love me, that you admire me, but you've _got_ to learn that I'm more than just a little doll for you to love and care for, I'm your partner, your _equal_, and you have to start treating me like one!" she cried.

"This is my only option! I'm your husband and you're my _wife_, when are you going to learn to respect my wishes? Normally I wouldn't ask this all of you, but normal flew out the window when a reward went on your head! _Trust me_, there is _nothing_ else we can do," he snapped. "I thought that you'd grown out of your spoilt brat phase, I assumed that I'd seen the last of you objecting to something just because someone else requested it!" he argued. "I'm protecting you because I love you, because I care for you, because you're _everything_ to me, and because you've never given me any signs that you can protect yourself! You can _defend_ yourself, but when it comes to your safety, your _life_, you've done nothing but make stupid, uninformed decisions!" he cried.

"You _drove_ me to make all of those decisions by not trusting me enough to be a part of them in the first place!" she objected.

"Dammit Lolita, you know _nothing_ of what we're dealing with now! You might not _want_ it, but you _need_ my protection!"

"I need your _respect_, Darcy," she choked out bitterly, tears streaming from her eyes as she stopped her pacing.

"There's a difference between me wanting to protect you and me doubting you that you don't seem to see anymore!" he objected pointedly.

"I _never_ saw it! All I ever saw was you trying to control me – you're taking away my freedom to be responsible for my own life!" she threw back. "I tried to put this on the shelf, but I swear to God, if this is going to be the rest of our lives together, then I'll have no hesitation to leave you!" she cried.

"Loli, I know that you're strong and amazing and wonderful, but this is _so_ serious now, he gave me a _direct_ threat. I have the means and the will to protect you, so I will," he said tiredly.

"I have no hesitation with you protecting me, hey, it's actually pretty cute, but _I_ should be included in any decisions made about me life!" she objected.

"That life involves _me_ now! _You_ are my life! I deserve the right to try and preserve it!" he retorted.

"Stop thinking about me in relation to your own feelings! The point is that I'm going to shrivel up and _die_ if you force this on me, I refuse to let you decide on my future without even talking about it to me!" she cried.

"I'm not sitting back with no control! Not when you mean this much to me!" he snapped.

"I'm not Gigi – and I'm not your mother!" she shouted angrily.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he questioned irately in quick response.

"You hated yourself for years for not being able to protect your mother, and you blame yourself for not protecting Gigi from Wickham!" she cried. "Neither of them could help themselves, no matter what they did, and you couldn't help them! It was beyond your control! And you seem to just assume that it's the same for me! That I can't look after myself, and you need to protect me because you can't stand anymore guilt!" she continued.

"My mother died because of a stupid choice! She made a sacrifice without properly understanding the situation, without even discussing the matter with her husband, her bad decision cost her life and destroyed my father's, and I will _not _have another Mrs Darcy buried for the same reason!" he cried furiously. "And I refuse to hear anymore arguments about it – I'm going to do my very best to bring you home safe and sound as soon as possible," he assured her curtly, the force of their arguing still remaining with alarming intensity.

Loli wanted it to stop. She wanted the shouting and the screaming and the crying to stop, she wanted him to stop talking before he said something that she could never forgive.

"What _is_ your very best?" she questioned.

"I'll stay up every bloody night if I have to, I won't sleep, I won't eat, not until I can safely guarantee that you being my wife puts you in no danger!" he snapped. "And then I'm going to have to into therapy and anger management when you get back with all of this shouting we're doing!" he added pointedly.

"You idiot, do you honestly think that I'm going to let you out of my site for at least six months after I get back to England? You're stupider than I thought," she snapped. He sighed.

"Loli, please, darling, angel, whatever bloody endearment you want," he began tiredly. "I'm trying. _So_ hard. But this is the only thing we can do," he informed her. "And it's not that I don't respect you – I do. It's just – when it comes to the safety of you, the safety of my family, I can't _help_ but act this way," he explained.

"Whit, I'm not going to just lie back and wait for this to be over. I want to be a part of it," she said firmly.

"Dammit Lolita, I will not _lose_ you! Isn't it enough that I've already failed my family? I did what I could, I did _everything_ that I could, but it wasn't enough!" he cried angrily.

"You haven't failed," she said patiently, but her anger was returning. "You did your best," she sighed.

"Well my best just wasn't enough, and _now_ this is the only thing I can do!" he cried. "_I_ screwed up. This is _my_ mistake, you don't deserve what's happened, and I _will_ fix this!" he promised roughly. "I mean, it was _my_ fault! I should have taken him more seriously, I should never have left Gigi alone – this should never have happened! And then you come into my life, and I _tried_ but I couldn't shake you, and I pressured you into marriage and living together!" he cried. Loli could tell that his angry tears were returning. "And all I've done is shout and yell and all we've done is go through row after row and I'm _tired_! I'm so desperately fucking tired," he practically wept.

"Whit, you didn't fail. You couldn't have stopped James from doing what he did, and I _wanted_ to marry you, there isn't a chance in hell I would have said 'I do' if I didn't mean it," she swore.

"I've never wanted to kill anyone before – I _hate_ murder, I _hate_ death, but every time I think of that son of a bitch touching _my_ _baby sister_, or hurting _you_, I want to rip his throat out," he practically growled.

"Whit, he's a bad person. But there isn't anything you can do about that anymore – we have to talk about our options," Loli said calmly.

"_No_, we _have_ no options!" he cried. "There's nothing more we can do – he won't get custody, but he's going to keep on trying to kill you until he knows he won't for sure!" he argued.

"I'm not a baby, Whit!" Loli objected. "I'm not a child, I'm not some silly, defenceless little girl!" she snapped.

"But you're _my_ girl! You're _my_ wife, you mean everything to me and I would rather die then see you get hurt!" he cried angrily. "I made this mess – and I need to fix it. I've _tried_, I've looked for other ways to deal with this but there's nothing we can do! And you can't keep on arguing with me for the sake of it – I've made my mind up!" he continued.

"You didn't make this mess, you didn't fail anything. And you're _my_ husband, and _you_ mean everything to _me_. But that doesn't mean that I control you. I should have a choice," Loli murmured. She tried not to sound hurt, but she _was_.

"You have life or death – that's it. And I will _not_ let you make the wrong decision about that!" he snapped. "I screwed up. I failed. I've single-handedly destroyed my family, and it's because of _me_ that your life is in danger – so you can yell at me, you can scream at me, we can have another row and you can call me all sorts of horrible names, lock me out of the bedroom or throw every single My Little Pony you have at me – but don't you _dare_ forgive me for what I've done," he practically growled. Loli could almost feel his hot tears from miles away.

"Well what the hell do I do then?" she questioned quietly, but the anger was still there in her tone. "Because there's nothing for me to forgive, and I can't throw My Little Ponies at you from this far away," she continued, wiping her eyes.

"Hate me for what I've done to you," he practically begged her. She said nothing. "It would make this easier, if you hated me. But this _has_ to happen. I need to try and fix this, and you _have_ to listen to me. I'm not listening to anymore objections – you _will_ do as I say," he finished curtly.

She'd never hated life more than she did at that very second. For a few minutes she couldn't say anything, she just sat down on the edge of the bed, and leant forwards, running a hand through her curls, tears sliding down her cheeks and falling to the floor. She felt sick, listening to him return his strained breathing to normal, trying to regain some calm.

"Loli, listen," he sighed finally. "This isn't –"

"No."

She surprised herself with how curt her tone was, how bitter and angry and detached she really could be when she tried.

"You know what? It's funny," she said, trying to keep her tone level. "You seem to think that losing me is the most terrifying thought in the world, and yet in the space of about half a dozen words, you guaranteed just that," she snapped. "You know how a few months ago, you asked if I thought you would ever hurt me?" she questioned coolly.

"Loli, _no_, I love you, I didn't mean to –"

"You gave me a direct order. That hurt me more than you could _ever_ understand," she snapped.

"_No_, please, don't say that," he begged her, his tone revealing that he was sobbing. "I would _never_ –"

"I don't think you should call me for a while," she decided. "I have to go. I hope everything goes well with Gigi and Callum, send them my love," she added finally.

"God, please, _Loli_, I'm so sorry – I'm so bloody –" he tried to interrupt her, but she ignored him.

"Bye, Darcy," she said curtly, before sliding her phone shut, and ending the call. The moment she did she let out a loud, choked sob, and heard her phone clatter to the floor. It started ringing almost immediately after she let go of it, but she ignored the familiar ringtone.

'_It's not over tonight,_

_Just give me one more change to make this right,_

_I may not make it through the night,_

_But I won't go home without you…_'

"Moon, are you okay? I heard shouting – sweetheart?" she heard her mother call from outside. Loli gave another strangled sob, and tried to wipe tears from her eyes as her mother pushed the door open slowly, and stepped carefully into the room. "Honey?" she questioned cautiously.

"I – I –" she stammered in response, before her stomach gave a huge lurch. "I think I'm going to be sick," she managed to get out, before she scrambled into the guest bathroom, pulling the door open quickly, and emptying the contents of her stomach into the sink. She felt her mother's cool hands pulling back her hair, and running comforting circles on her back.

"It's okay. From the sounds of it, you had a big fight," she sighed softly. "When I had my first big fight with Edgar, I threw up for hours. But it was okay," she comforted her.

"He – and I – it – I – I can't believe that he –" she wept, her chest feeling light it was tightening over her heart. "They lost," she managed to get out.

"I know. I heard," Madison sighed. "So what happens now?" she questioned carefully. Loli shrugged her shoulders weakly.

"Whit's going to try and change the Darcy family Laws. But it could take up to a year, and until then, I can't go back to England," she wept in response.

"Are you sure that there's nothing you can do?" Madison asked softly, smoothing back her daughter's hair in a comforting gesture. Loli gave a small, bitter, choked laugh.

"No, Whit made all the decisions. Because apparently I'm not capable of making them myself," she practically spat. She lifted a shaky hand, and turned on the water tap, as the contents of her stomach sped down the drain. "It's not right. He shouldn't be doing this to me – it's my life too," she cried quietly.

"I know, darling. He just wants to keep you safe," Madison cooed softly.

"I need to – I can't deal with him right now," she managed to get out, the same repetitive ringtone driving into her head as he called her again and again. "And what's worse, all I wanted to do was tell him I love him, even after he kept on saying such _stupid_ stuff," she wept quietly. "I don't _care_ that they lost, he couldn't have done anything more, it wasn't his fault that this happened! But I'm not going to just wait around – I won't let him tell me what to do!" she cried.

"Darling, having a nice long shower, and then get some sleep. We'll talk about this later, and when you're ready, we can call Whit," she assured her. Loli nodded tearfully, before her stomach gave another lurch, and she choked out hot, awful bile into the sink. "I'll bring up some chamomile tea and some wheat crackers in a few minutes, and you'll need to retake your medication. You've probably thrown it all up now," she laughed softly. Loli nodded, and continued to clutch onto the sink like it was her lifeline.

When she had nothing left in her stomach, she unsteadily rose to her feet, and stripped of her clothes, before stepping into the shower. She let the hot water rush over her body, willing it to wipe everything away, so she could just disappear down to the bottom of the drain forever.

She didn't touch her tea or crackers, but fell into bed after her shower, turning her phone on silent, and drifting into deep slumber.

~ * ~

He pressed redial, but heard no answer.

So he pressed it again.

And again.

And again.

He left her dozens of voicemails, too many texts to count, but nothing happened.

He cried for a little while.

When he finally realised that he wasn't going to get an answer, he rang her parent's home phone.

"Ezie!" was the response he was given when the phone was picked up.

"Hello there Ezekiel, it's your big brother Whit," he greeted warmly, or as warmly as he could, with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Hi Whit! Hi Whit! Guess what? My tooth grew back!" he informed him gleefully.

"Really? So quickly? That's wonderful," he replied, trying to keep the strain from his voice. "So. How's your big sister? Can I talk to her?" he questioned.

"Loli's _really_ sick," he said gravely.

"Sick? What do you mean? Is she okay?" Whit questioned quickly.

"She was shouting lots in her bedroom, and then Mummy said she threw up her tummy, and den Mummy took her tea and biscuits, and that's what Mummy does when _I _throw up my tummy, but Loli is sleeping now. She didn't even want to play!" he explained quickly.

Guilt flooded through him. He had made her sick? God, he felt even _more_ terrible at the thought.

"Ezekiel, what did I tell you about answering the phone? Give it here," he heard Edgar scold his son.

"Daddy, I did it right!" Ezekiel argued obstinately.

"Come on, give it here, and then go and put your trike back in the garage, you _know_ how angry it makes your mother when you leave it out," he ordered. Whit heard the noise of a phone passing hands, before Edgar enquired as to whom he was speaking to.

"Edgar, it's me. I need to speak to my wife," Whit said quickly.

"Ah. Whit," Edgar replied coolly. "You certainly have some nerve. That poor girl's been moping around the house with worry, hardly eating, hardly sleeping, and then you cause her to throw up her entire stomach with one phone call," he practically growled.

"I know, I'm an idiot, I – I messed up so badly, you don't have to tell me that," he replied tiredly. "But I _need_ to speak to her," he pleaded. "I need to apologise, I need to tell her –"

"Why, so you can try and control another aspect of her life?" he questioned snappishly. "Freedom to make her own decisions is the most important part of that girl's life, and you come barging in, telling her what she can and can't do! How _dare_ you!" he cried angrily.

"I'm only doing what my head of security thinks is best! I _need_ to protect her, I just want to keep her safe!" he argued.

"I'm sorry, my daughter is sleeping. Please don't attempt to call her back," he snapped finally, before leaving Whit with nothing but the empty sound of the dial tone.

He rang Kyle quickly. He dictated messages that he was to give to Loli, telling her to call him as soon as possible so they could work things out. He kept on trying her mobile; he emailed her, and then called Joan, Chandra, even _Sora_, telling them to tell Loli to call him. He was trying his best.

"If she doesn't want to talk to you, wait," he heard a voice from the doorway instruct. He turned to see Gigi stepping into his study, Callum held tightly in her arms. She looked a bit upset, but was staring at her brother with concern.

"He's not going to get custody. I'd never allow it," he assured her, reading some of her unspoken concerns. She nodded. "She sends her love, by the way," he sighed tiredly, leaning back in his office chair. He glanced out the window, it was getting late, night had settled in quicker than he had noticed.

"Loli is the closest thing I've had to a friend, you know," Gigi said suddenly. Whit frowned.

"You've got lots of friends, but you've only known her for a little while," he replied. She nodded, smoothing back her son's hair as he slept peacefully in her arms.

"But Loli is special," she murmured. "Is she going to die? Is James going to hurt her?" she questioned.

"No. I won't let him," he replied firmly.

"When will you be able to see her again?" she questioned softly. He sighed.

"I might be able to get to Paris in a few weeks, but it'd have to be very inconspicuous, and I could only stay a little while, a few hours, maybe a day," he answered tiredly, running a hand through his already dishevelled dark hair. "Not that she'd want to see me now…" he muttered quietly.

"She loves you, Whit," Gigi assured him. "She just hates other people being in control of her life. You need to talk to her, go over the situation, even if there aren't anymore options you still need to discuss it," she said softly.

"I can't even contact her, she's so angry with me! A – and if I were in her position, I wouldn't talk to me either! Fuck Gigi, I've screwed this all up so badly, not just today, but the past few months too, I just - this was worse than any of our other fights, and now she's sick because of how much stress I've been putting her through," he cried quietly, as to not wake his sleeping nephew. "I want her to come home more than anything in the world, but I can't lose her, these past two weeks have been a torment to me, how the hell am I supposed to endure this for up to a year?" he questioned.

"You'll live, you have no other options," she rationalised. He leant forwards onto his desk, supporting his head with his hands.

"I want her home, Gigi, I want her home so I can take care of her, so we can work through this," he said tiredly, before wiping his eyes, cursing at how pathetic he was becoming. "You should get some sleep. It's been a rough day," he sighed finally.

Gig paused, sighed, nodded, and then rose to her feet, giving her brother a quick kiss on the cheek and a soft 'sleep well' before leaving the study.

Whit sunk back in his chair.

He reached for his phone again, and dialled Lolita's mobile number.

No answer.

**A/N: Okay, so don't hate Whit too much! Or at all, preferably… I know he was a little bit commanding and then a little bit teary in this chapter, but it's all temporary, I can assure you. So the drama continues! Please tell me what you think of the new developments, I love to hear your opinions :D**


	45. Lolita, Lolita

**A/N: So I've been watching a lot of Gilmore Girls recently, thus the title of this chapter, 'Lolita, Lolita'. It derives from an episode called 'Lorelai, Lorelai', where Lorelai (sorry for people who haven't seen it yet or don't watch GG) sings 'I will always love you' at a bar on karaoke, supposedly to Rory to cheer her up about leaving Yale and not having a job yet, but then Luke (her on again, off again boyfriend) comes in and it's pretty darn clear that she's singing to him. It's supposed to be reminiscent of the whole Luke and Lorelai breakup, when Lorelai wants to elope and just forget about everything else and Luke doesn't want to because of his daughter, so Lorelai walks away. Yeah, sad. God, I love Gilmore Girls… So anyway, there are some parts that echo those two parts of the show, also, I really do see Lolita as growing up to be Lorelai when she gets over her initial ' oh my God, being an adult is so self-pitying' stage. Enjoy!**

Over the next few days, Loli had to hold herself back from picking up the phone every time he called, because as angry and hurt as she was, he was still her husband, and she still loved him. After the third day she stopped answering her phone at all, because inevitably, even when it wasn't Whit, it would always be someone like Joan or Sora or Chandra, trying to talk to her about what was going, trying to convince her to speak to him.

By the end of a week she was just a bundle of raw nerves. She missed him terribly – but she knew that if he spoke to her like he had just after the appeal again; she would never be able to forgive him.

She was hardly sleeping at all. Her meals were small and far between, and she had even been a bit slack with her medication, and as a result, she was pale, losing weight and constantly feeling like crap. She knew that her parents were worried about her, but she couldn't bring herself to answer the phone – no matter how hard she tried.

"Loli! Loli! Lookie!" came an excited little squeal. Loli glanced up to the entrance of the front living room where she was sitting, reading a book, trying to stop thinking about England, about Whit. Her parents were both working; the boys and Magdalen were at school, so Loli was minding Eve.

"I didn't even hear it ring," Loli murmured, as the girl toddled over, holding the cordless phone out with glee. "Hey – I thought you were taking a nap!" she added sternly, but Eve only giggled.

"Not sleepy," she informed her delightfully, holding out the phone.

"Is it Mummy or Daddy? Did they forget something?" she questioned, before taking the phone from her little sister with a pat on her head for her effort. "Mum? Pére?" she questioned, watching Eve softly pat the sleeping old tabby-cat on the ottoman.

"Lolita, don't hang up," she heard Whit say immediately. She froze, her mouth opening, but no sounds coming out for a moment as she collected her thoughts.

"Oh great, it's Mister 'I'm a Fucktard' then," she snapped, glancing over at Eve to ensure that she hadn't heard. "That was a dirty trick, using a baby to contact me," she managed to get out coldly.

"I needed to talk to you, please," he begged her. "How long are you going to keep shutting me out like this?" he questioned sharply.

"I have to go," she said abruptly. "Snail watching competition. Oh the joys I'm having here," she informed him sarcastically.

"Lolita, _please_, just listen to me, I'm _sorry_ that I upset you, you can't keep ignoring me, please, let's just - _talk_," he pleaded.

"Oh no, I really doubt you want that," she snapped. "Because I'm angry at you right now, and if I have to hear you boss me around and start your own self-pity party one more time, I'm going back to England whether you like it or not, but I won't be going back to _you_," she informed him curtly.

"I'm just trying to keep you safe!" he objected.

"By keeping me miserable? Wow, _that's _some messed up logic. I really don't feel like talking right now - I need time to think," she responded irately.

"Do you mean to revaluate?" he questioned, his tone quiet, but hinted with anger.

"I _want_ this marriage to work, Darcy, but I refuse to be bossed around like I'm a seven-year-old, I'm a _grown woman_, and if you won't let me be a part of the situation that _you_ put me in, then I won't be a part in anything involving you," she snapped.

"Can't you just _trust_ me?" he questioned desperately. She bit her lip.

"I can't sit back and let you decide this for me," she replied simply.

"_Why_? Why is this so hard? I'm doing this to protect you!" he objected. "You don't understand how serious this is! He said to my _face_ that he was going to make me pay, that _you_ were going to pay!" he cried. Loli sighed, and brought her legs up beneath her chin. She sniffed quietly, forming her words.

"I – I've changed, Whit," she murmured weakly, feeling her eyes sting once again with emotion. "I'm a different person to who I was a few months ago, and I – I don't know if I can deal with that, and I don't know if I can deal with you right now," she admitted. "So I need you to back off for a while, or else I'll – I'll call Sora and tell her to go fangirl on your arse," she threatened.

"But we're married," he reminded her. She sighed.

"You're not getting this anymore. I'm tired, Whit. I need to go," she said softly.

"Do you mean you need to go upstairs and rest, or that you need to go to another country and disappear?" he practically snapped. Loli sighed, and bit her lip.

"Let's go. Let's just leave," she said decidedly. "Let's just disappear – we can go to some deserted island somewhere, and no one will ever find us," she continued. "A – and we can live on coconuts and I can wear grass skirts or whatever, it'll be just like 'Lost' without all the conspiracies and drama, and James will never find us, as we can have as many children as you like, and we'll call them all Frangipanni," she almost pleaded. "And none of this will matter! We won't fight anymore because of stupid parties and stupid Wickham, we can be together and we'll be happy again!" she cried.

"Oh, Lolita, love…" he sighed. "I can't. We can't. You know," he said softly.

"Well why the hell not?" she questioned, sliding off the couch and beginning to pace, tears falling freely. "Don't you love me?" she asked.

"You know I do," he replied patiently.

"Then _why_? Why can't we do this? We can bring Gigi and Callum too – we can bring anyone you want, and we'll disappear and no one will ever find us!" she cried. "I mean, what the hell? Why can't we just _do_ this and not look back?" she questioned.

"Because it's not safe, because there's too much to consider," he answered patiently.

"I don't care! I don't care, I don't care, _I don't care_!" she cried. He sighed. "No, don't just sigh, don't just give me excuses, this is _now_, this is our lives!" she responded, her anger and her grief fighting furiously to be the dominant emotion.

"Loli…" he practically breathed. "We can't –" he tried to begin, but she interrupted him again.

"No, no, _no_!" she argued. "I'm angry at you because you never let _me_ decide things, and I want to decide, I want to do this _now_!" she practically demanded, knowing very well that she sounded like a child. "I _need_ this! There's something that's – the point is, I can't just spend the next year without you, so this is all or nothing," she managed to get out.

"Lolita, love, you _know_ that there's nothing more that I would – Loli, we just can't. It'd be denying Wickham his rights, and that'll just cause more trouble, and we can't just abandon everyone," he said softly. "And then there's your health; you're too delicate for –"

"_Screw_ my health! I don't care about pills or vitamins or splenectomies, I care about _you_! I committed to this, I _married_ you, and I _need_ to be with you, because if I'm not then I'll leave, and I don't _want_ to leave!" she cried, not even bothering to wipe away any of her tears with her trembling hands, or wipe her nose, because she was fairly certain that it was running. "And I've waited, and I've waited, but I can't wait any longer!" she cried.

"This is hard for me too, Lolita! I'm not used to this – I have a whole other person so consider, I'm so used to my word being final! I'm trying to take care of you!" he objected.

"But I don't _want_ that anymore," she said tiredly, shaking her head as she spoke. "I don't want a babysitter or any of that crap Whit, I just want to be with you, is that so hard to do?" she questioned, but she heard no response. "I'm not used to having someone to look out for me, and I'm _trying_, but I _have_ to know that if we're going to do this, it's the only way," she continued.

"We can't just disappear, you know that, Loli," he sighed. "What on earth did you _want_ me to say to something like that?" he questioned softly. "Did you expect me to leave behind my duties like that? To just run? Because that's not like me!" he chastised her.

"I don't _know_! Perhaps a musical number or something, everyone says 'I will always love you' is supposed to be the best love song, but I'm more of a Ryan Adams, Damien Rice kind of girl," she replied, trying to sound light, but she was just as strained as ever. "That doesn't matter! What matters is that I _need_ to make this decision on my own, and you aren't letting me!"

"Don't you trust me? I'd never do anything to hurt you!" he argued. "If it were up to me we'd live on a deserted island for the rest of our _lives_, but I have a duty to my family!" he cried.

"I don't _want_ to be selfish, Whit, I don't _want_ that, but if I want to leave I _will_ leave," she cried softly. "Don't push me, _please_ don't push me to do that," she begged him.

"You can't just _leave_, you're in danger, and I'm your husband," he argued. She scoffed.

"Yeah, like that's going to stop me," she snapped. "I'm past the stage where I let you control me, Darcy. I'm sick and tired of you acting like you're my father!" she continued with frustration.

"I'm _not_ acting like your father, I'm just trying to keep you alive!" he argued.

"So snapping at me and your cousin for spending the day in London together, and then sending me to another country is just your usual protectiveness?" she retorted.

"Oh, well that's right, just bring up Richard, are you sure you're not angry that I separated the two of you, not we have to be apart?" he questioned pointedly.

"I can't believe you! You're actually _jealous_ of the guy? Your _cousin_?" she exclaimed incredulously. "My God, you're turning into a complete and total idiot," she muttered.

"_Yes_ I'm jealous of Richard – I'm jealous of every fucking man that you talk to above the age of eighteen! And _especially_ my cousin!" he snapped.

"I married _you_ didn't I? Or did you forget about the wedding, the vows, _your best man_?" she questioned coolly.

"It took me months for you to even look twice at me!" he cried. "I did _everything_ to recommend myself to you, and all I got was a few acidic remarks and a death stare! But _no_, the moment you meet Richard you're practically dancing in his lap, you smiled at him, you joked with him, you two had _real_ conversations when _our_ conversations were limited to assignments and commissions!" he snapped.

"There's _nothing_ to be jealous about!" she cried angrily.

"When you first met him that night at Rosings, you let him kiss your hand, and then he put his arm around your waist when he led you over to me," he stated. "When we first met, you practically winced when I kissed your hand, and you would freak out whenever I touched you. Even when you slept in my office, and I held you until you fell asleep, you didn't relax until you were unconscious!" he snapped.

"Yeah. Richard _totally_ got the best of it, I mean, he got to put his _hand_ around my _waist_ for thirty seconds, but _you_, poor little disadvantaged soul, you only get the sex," she retorted sarcastically.

"Lolita I'm being serious!" he snapped. "I admit that I'm jealous of him – or that I was. When I saw you two come home that late at night, and you were smiling for the first time in ages, I couldn't _stand_ that it was _him_ that made you!" he cried. "So can you really judge me for getting angry at you? For being protective?" he questioned pointedly.

"_Yes,_ I can, because there's a difference between being a little bit protective and jealous than fucking running my life! I deserve some freedom!" she argued. "And I deserve to know the full situation, to make the decisions that concern my own life!" she added.

"Well what the hell do you _want_ from me? You have to trust that this is the only way and just _wait_, just stay in France until it's safe again," he replied angrily.

"I can't stay here for a year without knowing that it's the only way. I can't sit still and just wait for you to rescue me, because that's not _me_, and I'm tired of pretending that I'm someone different," she muttered. "I have to _know_ that this is the only way."

"If you come back to England, you'll _die_. Is that enough for you? Do you want me to detail your funeral? How he's going to kill you? What more do you _want_?" he questioned. "Because if you do this, you'll _die_. This is the only way we can keep you safe. Just consider that for a moment!" he cried.

"Do you think that makes this any easier? Do you think that I give a damn about being safe? I stopped caring about the risk a long time ago, Darcy!" she cried out suddenly, alarming Eve with her volume and her tears. "I don't _want_ this life, I don't _want_ to sit around waiting for it to be safe, waiting for this nightmare to be over so we can try and make this marriage work – I'd rather be in London and in danger than Paris without _you_!" she continued, her voice strangled by sobs. "You mean _everything_ to me, but I can't spend a year waiting around for it to be 'safe', this isn't solving anything!" she cried.

"Well what _can_ we do?" he snapped, using coldness to cover the true emotions in his voice. "Bringing you back to London is going to get you killed!" he objected.

"I don't _know_, all I know is that this _won't_ work, not this separation," she replied honestly, as Eve sniffled with tears, staring up at her sister with wide, inquisitive eyes. "I have to go, Eve is upset now," she whispered softly.

"No, Loli, don't just –"

She hung up. She knew that she was being stupid and it was all wrong, but she couldn't talk to him without shouting, she needed time to think. She bent down and picked up the teary toddler, whispering her soft words of comfort and assurance.

"Why Loli mad with Whit?" she questioned sadly.

"I'm not, sweetie. I'm mad with a very bad man who did something to someone, and because of that, I can't see Whit for a long time, and that makes me sad and upset," she explained softly. "And I don't want to talk to him until I'm not sad and upset anymore, because it only makes me sadder and angrier, and hurts him," she continued. Eve nodded quietly.

"Loli?" she questioned softly. "Whit still your Prince?" she asked.

"Yes, sweetheart, he's still my Prince," she replied, pressing a tiny kiss to the girl's forehead, before rising to her feet, and carrying her to the kitchen.

~ * ~

Lady Ekaterina du Bourg was not a particularly patient or forgiving woman. She was highly respected – she _always_ got what she wanted, and she never waited for it. Things _always_ went according to her plan.

"I'm afraid, Clarity dear, that you simply _must_ be mistaken," she said coolly to the platinum-haired waif sitting before her.

"If _only_ I were, Lady du Bourg!" she crooned sympathetically.

"It simply cannot be true. My nephew _knows_ that I have selected several possible brides for him, and he would never go back on my word, so therefore, you simply _must_ be lying," she replied curtly.

"I'm afraid, Lady du Bourg, it _is_ true, haven't you heard?" she questioned, turning to her oversized Marc Jacobs bag, pulling out several magazines, and thrusting them in the woman's face. "Look! See? It's proof, undeniable proof!" she cried.

Lady Ekaterina picked up the magazines, and started to rifle through them.

Pictures of the two attending parties, functions, charity events, they all flooded before her eyes, making her see red with anger. The Darcy family jewels – her _sister's_ jewels, dripping from _that wench_'s hands, neck, ears, proving that her very worst fears had been realised – she should have known that the little red-headed tart was out to steal her devoted nephew's fortune! She had drawn him in with feminine wiles and charms – what hope had he for a professional?

She was nothing more than a common prostitute.

"_Pregnant_? The brat is carrying a _child_?" she screeched suddenly. Clarity's sharp hazel eyes went wide.

"_No_! She said that rumour was a lie, she even said so to Adelaide Chagny – she _told_ me that it was untrue!" she exclaimed. "Besides, the little brat has some sort of disorder, I don't think she can conceive," she added quickly. Lady Ekaterina settled slightly.

They had married quickly, however.

With no announcements, nothing public.

He was keeping her locked away from society recently; no one had seen her in a month. Perhaps she had started to show? It was all well and good that she had denied all the rumours; in fact, it _was_ good, because it meant that when she was to be confronted with the truth, and the options, no one would ever know.

"Thank you, Clarity, dear. I believe I shall take care of this… situation," she said calmly, formulating a plan at that very moment.

~ * ~

A week passed, and she still ignored his calls.

And then another week.

And another.

She spoke to Joan, to Chandra, to Gigi, to Sora, even to Richard, she had lengthy discussions with her mother and Edgar, she listened patiently to Gigi's updates, Richard's observations, Joan's subtle little comments, Chandra's colourful suggestions, and Sora's endless enquires about why the hell she hadn't divorced him already, but none of it was any help to her – because she was kicking herself for what she was putting Whit through, but until she knew her own mind, she couldn't talk to him. She couldn't survive another argument.

She tried to stop caring.

But no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn't push him from her mind. She had set a deadline for herself, she had to talk to him within the next month, because they needed to discuss whether or not she was _really_ going to Russia, but her deadline was doing nothing to calm her down – she just had to wait until she could clear her head.

She woke up slowly one morning; a few days shy of being separated from Whit for seven weeks, the sun shining, the birds singing, a wonderful day, but she had no desire to enjoy the beautiful weather, she just wanted to see Whit, to talk to him, _anything_.

She stayed in bed for a few hours, staring at the ceiling, considering her options.

She could call him, but they might argue.

She could call, and tell him that she didn't want any arguing, that she just wanted to talk about anything, but they might argue again.

She could call, and try to rationally go through the situation like adults, without arguing, considering their options. But that still might turn into an argument.

She gave a growl of frustration, and got out of bed, picking up her phone with haste. It was the usual missed calls from her husband, but she ignored them, dialling another number instead.

"Bleugh… ahhhhhhhh… waddidyawants?" came a muffled, sleepy growl from the other line, when Richard finally picked up.

"Get a pen," she demanded. "I need you to write something down," she snapped. He muttered something, and she heard a drawer opening, and someone shuffling around in it. "Do you have one?" she questioned quickly.

"Keep your pants on woman, it's still early!" he groaned in response.

"Richard, it's almost the middle of the day, and London is only one hour behind Paris," she reminded him pointedly. He muttered something, before she heard the faint sounds of someone clicking a pen.

"Alright, what is it," he snapped.

"Alright, you're going to take this note to Whit today, okay?" she instructed him firmly.

"Uhh… okay?" he replied uncertainly. "What's the note going to say?" he questioned warily. She took a deep breath before replying.

"Dear Whit. I miss you. But I can't talk to you until you've investigated every option, and we can talk about it without arguing. I'll contact you tomorrow night, six o'clock, you're time, and you had better have a list. I love you, from Loli," she recited slowly, Richard quickly scribbling it down.

"Okay… are you sure?" he questioned, when she had finished.

"Yes," she replied firmly. "Take it to him, tell him not to call me until then, just work on the family documents and finding a way to get me safely to England," she instructed.

"You could have emailed him, you know," he pointed out.

"I know, but I would have only told him not to email me back, and this way he can ask you lots of questions about me, and I can give you permission to answer them," she sighed, smiling softly. "So I'm okay health-wise, but the boys have got a virus and I think I'm catching it, I've been feeling a bit crap, but I'm trying to get as much food and rest as I can, and I spoke to the doctor next door, she things I'm stressed," she recited. "Uh – I'm _not_ happy, pretty miserable actually, but I can't handle another argument, that's why I'm putting off talking to him," she continued. "I'm angry at him, but I understand it a little. I want him to trust me, to respect me, and to back off a bit when I want to make a decision for myself, and I hate going to stupid parties, by the way," she informed him.

"Right, I think I've got all of that," he chuckled. "I'll be sure to tell him, and pretend that you didn't want me to," he added. "Now, can I _please_ get some more sleep?" he begged. Loli laughed.

"Yeah, sure. Sleep tight, but remember to give him the note, and tell him how I'm going, okay?" she said sternly.

"Yes boss, I'm over and out," he replied. They bid each other quick goodbyes, and Richard went back to sleep. Loli got up, had a shower, and dressed for the day, apprehensive and slightly excited with the thought that she would be able to talk to her husband the next night, and have a serious discussion with him. They could actually _talk_ without being interrupted, without arguing, maybe things were going to get better after all.

She was just in time to catch her mother popping out for the afternoon to speak to her fabric suppliers, which meant that she had to be the one looking after Eve for the rest of the day. But she didn't mind at all, she was so thrilled that she could talk to her husband soon that the world could have burst into flames and she would still be grinning.

"Loli happy?" questioned Eve curiously, staring up at her big sister with wide blue eyes.

"Yes, Loli _very_ happy!" she replied warmly, crouching down to pick up her little sister. "How about we make cookies today? Cookies are _yum_!" she said happily, as Eve's eyes lit up instantly.

"Yum! Yum!" she cried with delight, clapping her childlike hands together. Loli laughed softly.

"Okay, so we'll make a million, _gazillion_ cookies, and we'll eat every last –" she began decidedly, before her cell-phone buzzed, stopping her sentence short. She supported Eve with one arm for a moment as she slid it out of her pocket, and quickly read the text message she had just received from Kyle.

_Security-cleared person about to ring doorbell. Deemed safe_.

She frowned slightly. Only her family and immediate circle of friends had been accepted as security-cleared, and her mother, father and siblings were at work or school, whilst her friends were all in England. Had her mother forgotten something, perhaps?

The doorbell rang cheerfully, alerting her to the arrival of the security-cleared person. But if it was her mother, she would have just come into the house…

She approached the door with suspicion, whilst Eve giggled in her arms, playing with her hair, unaware of the sudden change of circumstances. She examined the peep hole carefully, but all she could see was some hair and a pair of sunglasses, that is, until the person moved –

"What the _fuck_?" she exclaimed. Eve giggled. "Oh, honey, you didn't hear that!" she hissed, pulling the door open. "Lady Ekaterina! What are you – how did you know I was here? Did Whit send you?" she questioned with great confusion.

Lady Ekaterina du Bourg, in the flesh, stood before her, giving her a fierce, fire-filled glare with her icy, colourless eyes. She looked like she had just stepped out of a salon, as usual, wearing what appeared to be a very expensive suit and skirt combination, dark, bug-like sunglasses covering her eyes, a giant Birkin bag clutched in hand.

"I have my ways, Miss Gardiner," she snapped curtly. "It's impolite to treat a guest in such a manner. Invite me in, you insolent child!" she demanded coldly, before walking past her into the hall regardless. She peered around with distaste, before she found the entrance to the living room, and invited herself in.

"Would you like to sit?" Loli asked coolly, disgruntled and irritated that she had come with no announcements, and just waltzed in like she owned the place.

"I see you're practising then," she commented, glancing at Eve, who was clutching tightly onto her sister, hiding her face from Lady Ekaterina fearfully.

"This is my sister, Eve," Loli sniffed. "Sweetie? Why don't you pick up your dolls from the hall so Mummy doesn't trip over them?" she suggested, kneeling down, and placing the little girl on the floor.

"She scary," Eve whispered quietly. Loli nodded in agreement.

"Very," she muttered. "Darling, just run. Stay out of trouble, and stay away from _her_," she ordered her softly. Eve nodded, before she practically ran from the room. Loli rose to her feet, and sent a quiet, questioning glance to her visitor.

"I have to admit, Miss Gardiner, I hadn't thought you so low and pathetic," she said coldly. Loli straightened her pale blue pinafore dress, and pushed her curls back behind her shoulders.

"My name is no longer Miss Gardiner," she replied. Lady Ekaterina's eyes narrowed.

"Well what is it then? Jezebel?" she questioned curtly.

"I don't even need to dignify that with a response," she answered firmly, meeting the woman's cold, colourless eyes. She scoffed.

"You little tramp, don't you _dare_ behave so insolently to me! You're nothing more than a mongrel bitch," she snapped. Loli's eyes narrowed.

"Yeah. Sure. I'm a dog. Did you _want_ me to lick your ass, or did Colin do that already today?" she questioned angrily. Lady Ekaterina's eyes widened.

"How _dare_ you?" she gasped.

"Very easily. You came here, insulted me, frightened my baby sister, and then insulted me some more! No _way_ am I going to pretend that isn't rude," she snapped, crossing her arms.

"You insolent little girl! How _dare_ you? How dare you sink your claws into my nephew, how dare you take advantage of him, _steal_ the title that should belong to a woman a thousand times your worth, and then have the indecency to use your own foolishness as a manner of ensuring that this scandalous falsehood would continue?" she cried furiously. "You're nothing more than a two-bit whore – and I have come here to ensure that you won't ruin my nephew!" she snapped.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about? How the hell did you even find me?" Loli objected sharply.

"How much do you want?" Lady Ekaterina questioned sharply. "One million Euro," she offered.

"Yeah, sure, because I'm totally interested in money, and one million Euro I'd do anything," she said sarcastically.

"Two million for the both," she replied, raising her price.

"Are you kidding? Are you – have you lost your marbles?" she snapped pointedly.

"Two million for the divorce, and another million for the abortion," she demanded coolly. Loli's next words died on her lips, and for a moment she floundered to say anything else. "I see I've reached your price," Lady Ekaterina smirked.

"There is no _price_! I – what on earth are you _on_?" Loli questioned angrily.

"_Well_ then, if you're going to play _stupid_, I presume I'll have to go through the details!" she countered. "I came here because I'd heard a particularly _vicious_ and _disgusting_ rumour that you and my nephew are married!" she cried. "And even though I _know_ that it's next to impossible, I felt that my presence here was necessary to straighten this out!" she continued. Loli rolled her eyes.

"It's actually quite amusing that you came all the way over here if you knew that it was a lie," she commented. "That doesn't exactly make _you_ look particularly clever, in my eyes," she added, her eyes twinkling cheekily.

"Oh shutup, honestly, you're beginning to bore me," the woman snapped coldly. "I _came_ because I needed to hear it either denied, or see this whole mess go away," she informed her.

"Well, you _know_, to the unsuspecting onlooker, it might look like your presence here might confirm more things than it denies," she pointed out.

"_Are_ you married to my nephew?" she questioned curtly.

"Uh… tell me, where does it say in my Lolita Handbook that I have to answer that? Because honestly, I just didn't see it, I skipped over a lot of the etiquette nonsense," she retorted.

"Do you have _any_ idea who I am? What power I have?" she questioned sharply. Loli blinked.

"Over me? Nothing. Over your nephew? Maybe a few months ago you had a little bit. But other than that? I don't think so," she retorted, looking thoughtful.

"I could destroy you! Do you think I'm oblivious to this whole '_situation_' with my nephew and that bastard little boy of Gigi's?" she questioned sharply. "Oh yes, that _Clarkson_ of yours has very loose lips – once I told him the _full_ story!" she cried. Loli stumbled slightly.

"What did you say to him?" she questioned quickly. Lady Ekaterina sniffed pointedly.

"Just after that incident with the bomb in London I gave him a little call. Told him about all of your '_exploits_' with rich young men, and a few other things, it didn't matter if they weren't true, he might be as sharp as a tack but I'm a _very_ skilled liar," she sniffed pointedly.

"Why the hell would you _do_ that?" she questioned when she remembered how to use words. "He – he's responsible for _my_ safety, for the safety of Whit, Gigi, Callum, how could you do that? Put everyone's lives at risk like that?" she continued incredulously.

"The ins and outs don't matter, _Miss_ Gardiner," she spat in return. "All you need to know is that with one phone call, I could completely and totally destroy you. You could be dead within an hour, and no one would ever know," she threatened, taking a firm step forwards, her eyes blazing furiously, her jaw set and firm.

"Do your best," Loli spat in curt return, glaring up at the woman who was trying to intimidate her. She barely blinked when Lady Ekaterina's hand was brought sharply across her face, leaving a bright red imprint on her cheek. "Is _that_ your best?" she replied pointedly, her veneer never cracking.

"Do you deny that you and my nephew are married, you little brat?" Lady Ekaterina demanded sharply.

"No, I do not," Loli answered coolly. She bit her lip when the woman slapped her again, this time scraping her sharp fingernails over her ear. Loli felt a sharp sting as her cheap blue stud was ripped from her ear, and a small trickle of blood drip across her lobe.

"And are you carrying his child?" she questioned.

"No, I'm not," she snapped.

Another slap.

"Are you lying to me?" she demanded to know, her voice sharp and angry.

"No, I'm not," she responded pointedly.

"Yes, you are! I know you are! Why else would he have married a little tramp like you?" she cried.

"Because he loves me!" Loli burst out suddenly, startling the elder woman. "He loves me and he would do _anything_ for me, so you can call your hounds or your bitches of fucking James Wickham if you want – but I _know_ that no matter what, Whit is going to protect me, he's going to _be there_ for me, because he loves me more that _you'll_ ever understand!" she cried angrily.

"I see. And that's why he left you in France, is it?" she questioned coolly. Loli narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. To keep me safe, and no matter what, I know that he's doing this so we can have a future together. I don't care how long I have to stay away from him if it means that _one day_, we can be together again," she snapped.

"Ah. Then _clearly_ you don't know about Magy," she replied coolly. Loli scoffed, and rolled her eyes.

"Oh yeah, because _that's_ going to work, I know that he doesn't love her," she replied pointedly. Lady Ekaterina raised an eyebrow.

"I never suggested love, he just sees to his unfulfilled needs with the woman," she countered.

"I don't believe you," Loli stated firmly.

"You don't have to. Just because you don't believe the truth doesn't mean that it's not there," she replied. "Now. My final offer. Five million Euro for you to drop the baby and the husband," she demanded.

"Fuck off, Lady Ekaterina, I'm going to make cookies now," Loli snapped, turning away. "There's the door," she added, pointing back to the hall, before she headed for the kitchen.

"You insolent little tramp! I will _not_ see the shades of Pemberley polluted so!" Lady Ekaterina cried suddenly, picking up a heavy stone paperweight from the end table, holding it firmly in her hand. Loli turned, glanced at her weapon, and rolled her eyes.

"Go on then – throw it! I don't care!" she cried. "You can call me all the names in the book – but that's not going to change anything – the only name you need to remember is Lolita _Darcy_, Mrs Fitzwhitlam _Darcy_, Lady Lolita _Darcy_ – and that's not going to change!" she shouted sharply.

Lady Ekaterina's eyes burned with rage. She launched the paperweight across the room, and Loli moved to catch it, but it just clipped the side of her face, already red from the several slappings she had received. Ignoring the searing pain, Loli picked it up, and held it tightly in her hand. For a moment, Lady Ekaterina looked afraid.

"I could throw this at you, probably kill you, but I'm not going to do that," Loli snapped. "Because I'm better than you. Good day, Lady Ekaterina, oh, and _do_ fuck off," she finished, putting down the paperweight, and crossing the room. She threw the door open, and pointed onto the street.

"I've never been thus treated in my _entire_ life!" Lady Ekaterina snapped, storming from the room, and out the front door. Loli slammed it behind her, and leant against its surface, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

"Loli bleeding," came a quiet voice. Eve toddled over to her sister, her eyes wide with fear. Loli gave a small laugh.

"It's okay sweetheart, she's gone now," she sighed, sinking to the floor. Eve approached her, and wrapped her tiny arms around her sister's frame.

"She bad lady," she said quietly. Loli nodded.

"Yes, she is," she agreed tiredly, raising a hand to her head. It was bleeding quite a bit. "Honey, grab your coat and your things, we need to go next door for a little while," she said softly. Eve nodded, and released her sister. Loli got up shakily, and glanced at her reflection in the hall mirror. She winced. It might need stitches, she wasn't sure, but she didn't want to take any chances.

"Loli! Are we gonna get you fixed?" Eve questioned a moment later, holding her little box with her sketch book and pencils in it, her coat pulled haphazardly onto her small body.

"Yes, sweetie," she replied, taking the girl's hand and her set of house keys that sat on the hall bench.

It only took about half a minute for Loli to be knocking on the next door neighbour's door, Eve giggling at the excitement of it all.

"Who is – oh Lord, my dear, come in!" was the immediate greeting they received when the door was opened to them.

"I'm sorry Sophie, it's just – it was bleeding so much, and I –" Loli stammered, as Eve slithered between her legs and clutched onto her calf.

"It's quite alright, dear," the older woman said quickly, urging her in. "Come now little Eve, I have sugar cookies in the kitchen, and you can go play with the cat for a little while," she said to the toddler, who immediately freed herself and dashed into the hallway, giggling. Sophie pulled Loli into the house, staring at her head in concern.

"I don't think it's too bad, I just didn't know if it needed stitches," she explained.

"Eve, stay in the living room for a little while," Sophie called to the young child, who gladly took a seat on the floor, softly patting the large ginger cat that soon joined her. "Come dear, we need to take a look at that," she said, taking Loli's hand and leading her quickly through the house. She had an almost clinic-like setup in one of the rooms, where Loli had been in once before. She took a seat on the bench by the large steel sink, still holding her hand to the side of her face.

"My husband's crazy aunt," she explained, as Sophie eyes the wound suspiciously. "She's a bitch. I swear to God, she's going through menopause or something, or maybe she just wasn't hugged as a child or something…" she muttered, starting to feel a bit dizzy.

"What did you do to her?" she questioned teasingly, pulling out a little red box with all sorts of medical equipment flooding out of it, none of which Loli could identify.

"Nothing, sadly. It was more of an emotional, intellectual battle on my side," she explained bitterly. Sophie chuckled, her already wrinkled skin crinkling around her dulled blue eyes. Loli winced as she pulled her hand away from her head, and started inspecting the cut.

"It's not too bad," she informed her. "It might need stitches. But I'd prefer to use some butterflies for the next twenty-four hours, and if there's no improvement, we may have to go with the stitches," she explained. Loli nodded, and sighed.

"Sorry about this, I just – well, I guess _everything_ is falling apart now," she laughed quietly, but there was a certain level of bitterness in her tone that was unmistakable. "So I talked to Whit again a few weeks ago, I forgot to say," she informed her, for the record, as Sophie started to dab away at the blood with a soft cloth.

"Another argument?" Sophie questioned knowingly. Loli nodded.

"Another big one," she sighed. "I wanted to leave, to disappear, but he said no. So I got angry at him," she explained. Sophie winced.

"Ah, yes," she acknowledged. "But you must have known that he would never have said yes," she clarified. Loli nodded.

"But still… I guess I was just swept up in the moment. I mean, in my head, it was either going to turn out Gilmore-Girls style, complete with an impromptu but touching performance of 'I Will Always Love You', but I knew that he wouldn't… well, it didn't work out well in Gilmore-Girls either, but if you sort of skip a season, and pretend that Lorelai never married Christopher, then it kind of… no. I knew that he wasn't going to say yes," she sighed. "But I called his cousin, and told him to leave Whit a message saying that I wanted to talk, that I wanted to discuss the options, so hopefully… I mean, I said some awful things to him, and whilst he's being a jerk, it doesn't excuse me…" she trailed off. Sophie smiled, washing away the last of the blood.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," she replied, before digging out the butterfly stitches from her little red box. Loli winced as she put them on, covering up the gash carefully and a little too slowly for her taste. "So how did this happen?" she questioned, frowning slightly as she inspected the wound.

"Oh, it was a stone paperweight. She thew it at me, the old crone," she muttered.

"How old is this woman?" Sophie asked curiously. Loli shrugged.

"Pretty old. I should have been able to dodge it, but I've been a bit dizzy lately," she answered. Sophie raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Oh come on, you _know_ that I've got a blood disorder, dizzy is normal for me," she replied.

"But if she's an old woman, and she threw something heavy across a room, you should have been able to duck," she pointed out. Loli sighed.

"Okay, well _maybe_ I've been a bit dizzier than usual lately, but it's nothing," she assured her quickly. "I'm perfectly fine, I've been getting back on track with my pills, and I'm trying to eat and sleep better, this is just because I'm stressed, okay?" she clarified.

Sophie sighed.

"You certainly don't sound like you believe what you're telling me," she commented. Loli bit her lip in apprehension.

"I'm fine," she managed to get out weakly. Sophie shook her head.

"Lolita, sit back, and tell me what's wrong," she requested softly.

~ * ~

"I'm home!" Madison called loudly as she entered the house, dropping her keys on the table in the entrance hall.

"Kitchen!" was the reply she heard from her husband. "The kids are helping me cook dinner!" he informed her, trying to keep the strain from his voice. Madison stepped through the living room and made her way over to the kitchen, smiling at the scene she saw, four beautiful little children practically destroying the fridge.

"You be good for Daddy," she said sternly, taking off her coat, and hanging it over one of the bench chairs. Her darling little children only sent her large Cheshire-cat grins, their faces smeared with jam. "Where's Moon?" she questioned her husband curiously.

"She's upstairs, I haven't seen her since I came in," he replied. "I think she's a bit choked up again, Kyle said that she had a visitor," he explained.

"Really? God, I wonder if it was Whit, she's still so upset about him," she muttered, pressing a quick kiss to her husband's cheek before she headed back out into the hall, and up the stairs. "Moon? Honey? It's Mum!" she called warmly, trying to keep her voice free from worry and suspicion as she started down the hall to her daughter's temporary room. She knocked quietly. "Sweetie? Moon?" she said warily, pushing the door open softly.

She stepped into the room, and looked around in shock. Clothes were strewn everywhere, suitcases open on the bed, half packed, more items flying towards them with haste.

"Moon? What's wrong?" she questioned carefully, as her daughter stepped away from the closet, a pile of clothes spilling out of her arms, her face tear stricken and pale.

"I'm going," she announced.

"Honey, you can't go, it's not safe," she reminded her carefully, stepping forwards warily. Loli dumped the pile of clothes on the bed with a slight sniffle.

"I – I'm going to Tokyo, or maybe Germany, I don't know – I have to get out of here," she managed to get out, her voice choked.

"Did you have another fight with Whit?" Madison questioned softly, taking another step closer to her daughter. She shook her head. "Did something happen to him or Gigi? Is everyone okay?" she asked.

"As far as I know, they're all fine," she replied shakily, moving back towards the closet quickly.

"Moon! Stop, just sit down, and tell me what's going on!" she cried, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders, stopping her movement. Loli sniffled, and gave a tiny, choked whimper.

"I – I'm p – pregnant."

**A/N: Don't gasp, most of you suspected this much a LONG time ago, you clever kiddies you. Please review, we aren't too far from the finish line now! Sorry for the long chappies… hehe ^__^**


	46. To Win the Chance to Live?

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the kind reviews I'm getting! Hopefully not much longer to go now, however, the drama isn't over! So please keep reading :D And I'm getting kind of sick of the whole 'oh woe is me' stuff that Loli is pulling, so there won't be much more of that. ^__^**

"I – I'm p – pregnant," she managed to get out. Her mother's eyes widened incredulously.

"Oh Moon, that's –"

"Please, Mum, don't make this difficult, I need to go," Loli interrupted before her mother could give any sort of congratulations.

"Oh darling, you _can't_ go – especially now," she responded, as Loli tore herself out of her arms and back towards the closet. "When Whit finds out about this, he'll –"

"He's not _going_ to find out, Mum," she snapped. "I'm going to Tokyo, I'll get my hair cut and dye it black, and I'll lie low with Sora until it's safe," she decided, tearing coats and jackets from the closet quickly.

"Honey, it's _his baby_, he's _got_ to know," her mother tried to soothe her.

"Why? So he can move me to Russia?" she cried, throwing piles of clothing at the bed. "So I can live with people that I don't know for a year, never leaving the house, sitting in the dark waiting for things to be safe again?" she continued angrily, stuffing the clothes into the suitcases, scrunching them up to make them fit easily.

"So you're going to move to another country without telling him that he's going to be a father?" her mother responded calmly. Loli wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

"He's got enough to worry about now. This baby has just put a giant flashing target on me, I'm sick of complaining that he can't be with me!" she cried. "I'm sick of talking about this, the only thing I can do is get as far out of the way as possible. It'd only complicate things a million times more," she snapped. "This is the only way – _no one_ can know," she said firmly, turning to the chest of draws, and pulling them out, emptying them on the bed.

"How did this happen? I mean, clearly it wasn't expected – what protection were you using?" Madison questioned incredulously.

"I was told three years ago that I couldn't have children unless I underwent some sort of therapy, I was _told_ that my medication wouldn't _let_ me get pregnant," she explained shortly, wiping another tear and sniffling as she continued to scrunch clothing into the suitcases.

"That doesn't mean that you can just forget about protection!" cried her mother in response, making a move to try and stop her daughter from packing more clothing.

"We didn't! But Whit didn't want me on the pill, so it wasn't exactly… foolproof," she explained, biting her lip as she pulled back away from her mother, and started to throw shoes into the bags open on the bed. "We were under the impression that it couldn't happen unless I got therapy!" she cried, throwing sneakers at the bed in anger.

"Moon, leaving isn't going to solve anything, you have options," she tried to explained calmly. Loli gave a bitter laugh.

"Yeah, abortion, Russia, or death," she recited. "If I go to Tokyo, no one dies, and I won't have to hide away with people that I've never met!" she cried, pushing her hair back before tearing back into the closet, pulling out dresses and trousers and blouses with haste.

"Sweetie, maybe abortion is something you should talk to Wh –"

"Are you _crazy_?" Loli exclaimed, turning around incredulously. "No. _Never_. Whit would never be able to look me in the eyes again – and even though I don't _want_ this – this _thing_, I'm not going to murder it!" she cried angrily. "Mum, I _have_ to do this! I'll be just as safe in Tokyo as Russia, I _know_ people in Tokyo who can help me, and if Whit knew, it would just cause more problems," she snapped, shoving the last of her clothes into the last suitcase.

"Moon, this isn't solving anything," her mother said calmly.

"No, maybe it's not," she responded, zipping up the bag. "But I have _no_ other options now," she finished firmly.

"Well – what about your father? He knows people all over the world that can help you!" she suggested. Loli gave a bitter scoff.

"He's back in England now, Mum, and he wants _nothing_ to do with me," she snapped.

"No, honey, your father loves you," she tried to soothe her, stepping forwards again as Loli continued to zip up her bags, wiping away a few more tears as she went.

"I called his place in Hertfordshire this afternoon, Mum, because I thought that he might know what to do," she snapped. "_She_ answered. She told me that Dad had come home, but he didn't want to see me, because I got married to a man that he doesn't know, and apparently I made no efforts to try and find him," she said curtly. "He said that if I don't want him in my life, then he'll respect my wishes, no matter how angry and disappointed he is with me, and stay out of it," she added bitterly.

"That doesn't sound like your father at all, hun. He loves you," her mother assured her. Loli shook her head.

"She told me his exact argument was that maybe he had failed as a father, but he might have done a better job if I hadn't failed at being a daughter," she informed her angrily. "I don't want to talk about this anymore, I need to leave, my plane is heading out pretty soon," she added finally, zipping up the last bag.

"Moon, you _can't_ do this – it's not fair to Whit, and it's not fair to your ba –"

"_No_! Don't you _dare_ use this against me!" she cried. "Do you think I want this? I'm doing what I see is best for everyone's survival! He'll know about this when it's safe for him to know, but until then, this is _my_ decision!" she snapped finally.

Madison nodded, sniffled, and wiped away a small tear.

"But how are you going to look after a baby by yourself?" she asked softly. Loli shrugged.

"Internet," she replied. "There has to be a heap of stuff about looking after children, and Sora's Mum had two, she can help," she muttered. "Mum, I need you to know that this isn't what I want, but this is what _has_ to be," she sighed. Madison nodded.

"I'll give you a lift to the airport then," she said softly.

"He'll be able to find out where I am by himself, but he's probably going to contact you here," she said quietly. "Just tell him that I love him, but he can't try and bring me back to Paris, I'll call him when it's safe," she added. Madison nodded.

"We'll go in your father's car, it's in the garage, so Kyle and Christopher won't be able to see me put the bags in it," she decided. "You'll have to hide in the back seat so they can't see you, we won't tell your father until you're gone though," she added. Loli smiled softly.

"Thank you, Mum," she said quietly. Madison wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter.

"I know that this is wrong, but you need to do this, I guess," she sighed. "You've always been a stubborn little girl," she added, stepping back, with a tiny, sad smile. "Whit would want to be a part of this, you know. He'd respect your decisions, but he'd keep you and the baby safe," she pointed out. Loli nodded, tears sliding down her cheek.

"I'm not ready for this. We weren't going to look at children until I was twenty-five. Maybe this is stupid, but this is – it's all I feel like I can do now," she said softly. Madison gave another nod.

"I'll take your bags down to the car, be ready in five minutes," she directed. Loli nodded.

In half an hour, she had bid goodbye to her tearful mother, her hair pulled up and covered with a grey beanie, her eyes shaded with big dark sunglasses, a dark trench-coat covering her pale blue pinafore dress. She popped out the wheels on her suitcases, and started across the terminal, headed for security.

_A baby_.

_A baby_.

_A baby_.

_You're going to be a mother_.

No matter how many times she told herself, it never sunk in. She couldn't comprehend it. Ever since Sophie had given her the final verdict, her mind had been in hyper-motion, thinking of ways to get out of the country, to hide it for as long as possible, any way to ease the situation. She hadn't thought about the actual truth – that she was going to have a _child_. How much longer did she have? She calculated it in her head, if she was a little over six weeks along, then she had less than seven and a half months.

She smiled quietly. She had known Whit for about that amount of time.

She spied a line for a little MacDonald's, and had to hide back a tiny giggle. They met in line at MacDonald's. She softly bit her lip, she had thought him ridiculously attractive when she first met him, and still thought him so. But he could look like the back of a bus and she would still love him, she realised.

"God," she whispered quietly, staring past the MacDonald's line and towards the queues of people waiting to have their boarding passes checked. "What the hell am I doing?" she questioned herself.

She couldn't do it by herself – she couldn't go through a pregnancy and give birth to a baby by herself, she was absolutely terrified, she _needed_ Whit, she _needed_ him to be there for her, to tell her that it was all going to be okay. And how did she even know if he was going to send her to Russia? He had very strong family ties – he'd never let her go through the next seven and a half months alone.

She was decided. She would change her ticket – she wasn't going to run away, she was going to face her demons head on. She knew and understood the risks, but things had changed, she _needed_ her husband. She turned, determined to go get a new ticket, to do what was probably the stupidest option, but the one that would allow her to be with the man she loved.

"Oh fuck," she swore, upon turning, and seeing who was standing behind her. "You've really just screwed up my day, did you know?" she questioned with irritation.

James smirked, his dark eyes twinkling as he put his hands in his pockets.

"Long time no see, Little Loli, my love," he greeted her cheerfully. Loli glanced around the airport, looking for security, _anything_. "Oh, and don't bother," he threw in, noticing her glances. "I have about a dozen guys here – each one of them is armed. It's probably best if you just came quietly, because all of my boys are prepared to go down for me, and they _will_ shoot," he added.

"You're a complete and total fuckhead – and I'm not going anywhere with you," she spat at him angrily. James laughed.

"Good to see you're still a little spitfire," he chuckled. "Seriously love, any fuss, and you're in big trouble," he informed her, nodding to someone behind Loli's back. She winced when she felt someone step close behind her, and something cold and hard pressing into her back, right beneath her ribs.

"_Please_ say you're just happy to see me," Loli muttered, turning her head. She could have laughed – the man with the gun was _such_ a cliché thug, big, broad, stupid looking, no hair, and a scar across his scowling face.

"Sadly, it's a gun, Little Loli," James laughed, keeping up his smiling façade, his eyes glinting coolly. "Now then, we have a car outside, so Malcolm shall be taking your bags," he informed her calmly.

"What on _earth_ makes you think that I'd go with you?" she snapped angrily, pulling away from 'Malcolm'. The grin on James' face flickered. "You're in a crowded airport terminal. Why on _earth_ would you shoot?" she snapped.

"Because I got one of those neat little phone-activated bombs, I just have to ring it, and _bang_, there goes half of this airport," he informed her quietly. "Luckily it's the _other_ half, though, because I _know_ how much my old buddy Whit would hate it if his pretty little wife were to be injured," he commented, stepping closer towards her, causing her to back into Malcolm. "Come on then love, just make this easy for us all," he commanded her in a polite tone that made Loli sick, as he reached forwards, and stroked her cheek, in an almost loving caress. She tore her face away, her sunglasses sliding off her face, clattering to the floor, a few red locks spilling from beneath her beanie. James looked disappointed, but he readjusted his smile immediately.

"How do I know you're not lying?" she questioned pointedly, narrowing her eyes, and sending him her best death stare. She hated him like she'd never hated another man before. He smirked, and straightened his dark brown leather jacket and scarf.

"Because I've done it before, you know," he teased her, smiling brilliantly, white teeth flashing. "Awful shame you missed that, actually. You were supposed to be on that street at that very second, but _no_, you had to toddle off to Pemberley, like a good little pet," he added. "And we could have been so happy…" he trailed of wistfully.

"You pig!" Loli hissed, spitting at him. He chuckled, and took a tissue from his pocket, wiping the collar of his jacket. "I hate you. What you did to Gigi was _disgusting_, and now you're trying to rip the whole family apart? You're a monster," she swore vehemently.

"You know Little Loli, I'm not sure if it's just this arguing, or the fact that I haven't seen you for a little while, or rather, I haven't seen you without you being _aware_ for a little while, but you're looking radiant, Lolita," he commented, his dark eyes tracing over her form. "Perhaps you're just so happy in your marriage that you've started to glow, but _my_, you're turning into quite a pretty little thing," he complimented.

"Do you _want_ me to throw up on you, you bastard?" she questioned him curtly, trying to pull away from Malcolm behind her, but he had gripped her arms tightly. She took another glance around the terminal, but it was so busy that no one was even giving them a second look.

"You know, when we first met, I wasn't terribly interested," he informed her, his lips spreading to a grin. "You were pretty, yes, but not stunning. Your stepsister, Joan, isn't it? Now _she_'s a piece of work," he chuckled, raising his hand again, and grasping her chin. She pulled away, but he tightened his hold. "But the more I see you, the more attractive you become. Yes, there's a certain _something_ about your face that's very enchanting. You're truly ravishing, _nothing _compared to that blonde haired waif Joan," he added, ignoring the fiery glares Loli was sending him.

"Sorry, _Wickham_, but I'm taken," she spat back at him. His smirk faded slightly.

"Not for long, Little Loli. Whit doesn't appreciate what he's got," he commented coolly, running his rough thumb over her jaw, and across her lips. "I always thought you'd be a good lover, you know," he informed her, as if he were discussing the weather. "I tried my best, but you didn't seem that interested. Perhaps _now_, however…" he trailed off, raising an eyebrow, and smirking at her wince.

Loli wanted to vomit with the tone of his 'perhaps'. It made her sick.

"Not a _chance_," she practically growled. "Let me go, or I'll scream as loudly as I can," she threatened, struggling against the tightening hold of the hired help behind her.

"That won't help at all," chuckled James. "Because I'm not joking about that little surprise, you know. Hundreds of people would be killed, just because of your selfishness," he added. Loli stumbled, and narrowed her eyes. He knew that she wouldn't risk it.

"You're a horrible, vile, _disgusting_ monster," she spat. He gave another quiet laugh.

"Come along then, dearest, time to go," he said, taking her hand. He squeezed it very, very tightly, little stabs of pain shooting up her arm. She winced, feeling the other man take her bags from her hands, but he still walked close behind her, the gun lightly pressed against her hipbone, just enough to remind her that it was still there.

She wondered why she wasn't more afraid. After all, she had a gun pointing at her, and she was about to be kidnapped and taken god-knows where, by people that wanted her dead. She was angry, and felt sick, but she wasn't trembling in fear like she thought she would be. She supposed they must have looked relatively normal, walking through a busy airport terminal, like she had just gotten back from a long trip and was being greeted and taken home.

She starting glancing around as they left the airport, hoping desperately that someone would be able to see that she was in trouble, that some one would step in, but nobody even looked twice at her.

"Straight ahead," she heard James order quietly, coldly. She turned her head quickly to face before her when she felt the gun pressed harder against her hipbone, and the act caused her beanie to slip off, curls spilling over her shoulders. She moved to pick it up, but James practically wrenched her forwards. "Oh no, keep on moving there, love," he demanded. She bit her lip, and obeyed. She wouldn't put blowing up half of a busy airport past James.

"How the hell did you find me, anyway?" she questioned, when she could find her voice, as she was led to a large black sedan, windows tinted so darkly that you wouldn't be able to look out of them if you pressed your face right up against the glass.

"Oh, I really do doubt you want to hear that right now," he smirked as a response. "Let's just say that your loyalties lie in entirely the wrong places," he commented. Loli froze as the door was pulled open.

"_Clarkson_?" she exclaimed. James chuckled.

"My, you _are_ a clever little thing, aren't you Little Loli," he laughed, climbing into the car, not letting go of her hand before he pulled her in next to him. There was a driver in the front seat, a tall, lean, sallow faced man who hadn't moved at all since they got in. He was clearly well-trained. Malcolm slammed the door closed, and moved around to the boot of the car, throwing in her bags carelessly.

"I was in a crowded airport, wearing sunglasses, a beanie, and a trench coat. _How_ did you find me?" she questioned coldly.

"You know, you really shouldn't wear that bracelet all the time, it may be small, but it certainly sets you apart from everyone else," he replied. Loli's eyes widened, and she immediately pulled up her wrist for inspection.

"Did you put a bug in it or something?" she questioned angrily, her eyes raking over the charms with haste. He scoffed.

"Sadly, no. It would have been a good idea, though," he commented. "No, we just had a _lot_ of people looking for a pretty young thing with a completely and totally unique bracelet. And the Hello Kitty luggage was another indication," he informed her. She groaned at her own stupidity, as Malcolm climbed into the front seat. "So how did you get that gash on your head then?" he questioned curiously.

"I fell," she lied coolly. He gave a soft laugh.

"I doubt it," he responded, smirking. He raised his hand, and pushed a lock of her hair back to inspect the wound. She pulled away from him as the car started. "Come now, I just want to have a look," he tried to persuade her. She pulled further away, and reached for the door handle. She pulled it, but nothing happened. "Child-lock," he said simply.

"It was worth a try," Loli muttered quietly, still edging away from him.

"Did you know that these windows are bullet-proof?" he questioned her curiously. She sent him a narrowed glare as her response. "No, I didn't think you did," he chuckled. "That just means that they're very hard to damage. You could throw a brick at them and they wouldn't break," he continued, sliding over the seat, so he was right next to her.

"Wow, you should have been a tourist guide or something," she snapped angrily. "That is, if your true calling wasn't so obviously a loser," she added coolly.

"Hmm, a loser, you say?" he questioned, with a tiny laugh. "Well, we'll see about that," he said, raising his hand, and putting it on the side of her face. Loli winced at his small caress. "We would have been very happy together. And we could still be, you know," he whispered, fixing his eyes on her face. She shuddered in disgust as he pressed a tiny kiss to her jaw. He noticed her scowl, and he frowned angrily.

She didn't even realise that his touch was no longer a caress until her vision was becoming dark, and she felt a searing pain in the side of her head where he had pushed it against the bullet-proof glass with full force.

Her now unconscious form slid off the seat to the floor of the sedan, like a lifeless Raggedy Anne doll.

~ * ~

Whit read over the note again.

And again.

And again.

There were no hidden meanings to it, but he still couldn't help but go over it, his heart soaring with every word he read. She _wanted_ to talk to him. She _wanted_ to have a conversation with him. She said that she missed him, and that she loved him. He was practically ecstatic as he paced his office. What would he say to her? Would she still be angry with him? He had so much to tell her – he'd been trying to talk to her for so long, but she refused to speak with him, he had good news, and she was going to be thrilled, he knew.

He glanced at the clock, it was well past midnight, but he couldn't sleep. Almost every waking hour had been devoted to changing the Darcy Family Laws, they had made progress, but it was a lengthy process to change something so old and set in stone. And when he wasn't working with his legal team or tying up ends in the Darcy Empire, he was trying desperately to sleep, so he could have even a short refrain from the rather unexpected misery he was going through. He'd always hated emo love songs and soap operas, but they were just trying to illustrate what he was feeling.

Horrible.

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. He missed having her around. She had become such an important part of his life in such a short amount of time that it was almost amazing.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone rang. Who would be calling him at that hour? He crossed back over to his desk and picked up the phone immediately.

"Hello? Lolita?" he said quickly. The deep, familiar chuckle he heard instead sent a chill down his spine. "James," he practically spat.

"Oh no, no, I really am Lolita, just give me a minute to get into my falsetto," he replied teasingly. Whit grit his teeth together in frustration.

"What do you want? I'm not interested in negotiating anything with you – and besides, _your_ lawyers have to contact _mine_ before anything can happen," he snapped coldly.

"Ah yes, well, actually, I'm not calling _directly_ in reference to that, I'm afraid," he replied casually. "You see, I thought that I might pop in for a visit. Gigi and my boy are staying with you, right?" he continued lightly.

"Are you kidding?" Whit replied, giving a hollow, bitter laugh. "There isn't a chance in _hell_ you're getting anywhere near my family," he snapped.

"Ah, but the problem is that I have something of yours that I think you might want me to return," he informed him. "About five foot five, long red hair, the most gorgeous blue eyes, ring a bell?" he questioned. Whit clenched his fist.

"I now exactly where Lolita is, so I'm not taking your bait," he said coldly. James chuckled.

"Pretty little thing, isn't she? I admit, when I first met her, I wasn't terribly impressed, but there's something about her… she's rather ravishing, congrats on landing the prize filly," he responded, as if he hadn't even heard his old friend's remark. "And those pretty pink lips… she has a very sweet little kiss, doesn't she? Yes, _very_ sweet," he continued.

"Lolita is safe, in a place where you're not going to find her. So you can cut the crap, James," he spat pointedly.

"Head wounds bleed more than others, right?" he questioned suddenly. "She's ruining the leather in here – but luckily I had a spare towel to clean her up a bit," he continued. "Anyway, she should be waking up soon, unless I hit her a little too hard… oh well, same ends, different means," he laughed. "Although, I'd rather spare her life, if possible. I mean, sure, for a _while_ I was determined to silence her completely, but I have to admit – and excuse my poor quotation skills, but I always loved Shakespeare – she would become my bed very well," he added.

"James, fuck off. Either tell me why you called, or I'm hanging up," Whit said, growing frustrated.

"Aren't you even curious? After all, can you be _sure_ that your pretty little wife is safe in Paris? Perhaps her parents got tired of her, which is understandable. She's certainly got a bit of a mouth on her, and if I hadn't had a tissue for her spit my nice new jacket would have been ruined," he commented.

Whit froze. How did he know that Lolita was with her parents in Paris?

"Oh look, she's moving a bit," James continued. "Little Loli! Say hello to your soon to be late husband, he's on the other line," he called.

"James – what the hell are playing at, this is a bluff, I know it –"

"Mmmph… urg…" came a painful little moan. "What… mm… my head… W – Whit? I c – can't –" it continued.

"Shhh, you have to save up your strength, Little Loli," James soothed. Whit could tell he was smirking.

"Ah!" came a cry of pain, and a little sob. "N – no, l – let me ­­­- Whit?"

"You monster! You fucking piece of _scum_ – how _dare_ you? I'm going to rip your throat out!" Whit cried furiously, rising from his chair. He could tell instantly who it was, James hadn't been bluffing.

"Oh relax, it's just a little bump on the head," James chuckled.

"I'm going to murder you. Let her _go_ – you're never getting a cent out of me and my family!" Whit practically roared. "Give Lolita the phone, _now_," he ordered sharply.

"Might as well, for old times sakes," he laughed in return.

"I – I'm sorry Whit," came a tiny little pained murmur.

"Shhh… oh love, it's okay," he soothed her softly, fighting angry tears. "I – it's going to be okay, I'm not going to let him hurt you, okay? J – just wait, I'll come find you," he assured her, before biting his knuckles to keep him from letting out too much emotion in his voice.

"N – no! He'll k – kill you," she replied, her voice strained. "I'm f – fine," she assured him.

"Don't worry, I'll find him, it's okay, he's not going to hurt you," he replied, trying to keep calm.

"I'm in a b – black sedan, its li – licence was RMX –"

"I think that's quite enough, don't you?" snapped James curtly, taking back the phone. "So, are you convinced?" he questioned coolly.

"Do you _honestly_ think that you're going to get away with this? You're going to rot in prison, you stupid son of a –" Whit began angrily, his rage blinding everything else but his concern for Lolita.

"Now Whit, there's no call for such language," he laughed in response. "You see, the thing is, I _told_ you to drop the girl. I _told_ you that you were under no conditions to see her, and yet you persisted! That makes me angry, Whit, that you would betray an old friend like that," he said sternly.

"_Friend_? You're _nothing_ to me!" he responded.

"Well, perhaps I'm your enemy then," he replied pleasantly. "Nevertheless, I'm going to need you to call off your security. Because if I get even a _whiff_ that something fishy is going on, do you know what I'm going to do?" he questioned.

"Be sentenced for life?" Whit spat back curtly.

"Oh no," he chuckled. "I'll kill her," he informed him, ending his laughter suddenly, his tone deadly serious. "I've done it before, and it'd be my pleasure to do it again. And I'll do it right in front of you, take away the most important thing to you, so you're going to sit tight, not make a peep, and wait for me. Get rid of all the servants, you, Gigi and Callum will wait in the front room. Curtains closed. And if you _don't_ do what I say, and I can guarantee you that I'll know if you don't, then your precious little angel is _dead_," he instructed coldly.

"What do you want?" Whit asked, squeezing his fists together so tightly that he could feel blood in his palm.

"Oh, just a chance to talk. You have all of the custody forms, I guess? We'll need those, oh, and one of your cars, I think," he instructed. "Some money too, would help. I know you've always got plenty in the safe, so take whatever you have in cash out, it doesn't matter how much it is, I'll be getting the rest anyway," he continued. "Uh… A first aid kit, would be helpful too, because she's loosing blood fast, and I'm very much armed," he added. "I've also got a hairline trigger and an itchy finger. You know that old pistol that went missing from your Dad's office around about the funeral?" he questioned.

"You bastard. That gun was an heirloom," Whit spat. James chuckled.

"It was loaded, did you know? Three shots. I haven't used them yet – but I'd love the symbology if I were to use one of them on the very man that it belongs to," he laughed.

"Why are you doing this?" Whit questioned. "Why can't you just leave me and my family _alone_? Why should we have to pay for your stupidity?" he questioned angrily.

"Oh no, _you_ don't get to be angry, Whit," James spat. "You took _everything_ that should have been mine. _I _should have had the Darcy name – your father loved _me_ more! _I _should have had the fortune, the estates, the Empire, and just when I think that you can't take anything else away from me, you had to snatch Lolita from me!" he practically growled. "She should have been _mine_! And she would have, if you hadn't come barging in!" he cried.

"Lolita would _never_ have been yours, she loves _me_," he spat in response.

"She could have learnt to love me instead! Everything I want you just take away from me! _Morally_ it should have all been mine, and now, _legally_ everything belongs to me – but you continue to deny me!" he cried. "Do you think that I _wanted_ this to happen? Your sister was pretty enough, but she was just a means to an ends, there was no pleasure in it for _me_, I was forced to do what I did to get what rightfully belonged to _me_!" he continued angrily.

"None of it _ever_ belonged to you, James," he snapped curtly. "My father _pitied_ you, he owed you nothing! And after what you did to my sister, you deserve to burn in hell," he continued angrily.

"Burn in hell? Perhaps," he laughed bitterly. "But all I want is my fortune and my empire. Oh, and Lolita, of course," he added. "She would have been mine. If you and your legal lot hadn't forced me out of London she would be _my_ wife! You were always taking my things away from me, even when we were little! And the one thing that I wanted – other than the name that should have been _mine_ – was Lolita Gardiner," he spat. "So you're going to suffer for taking her away from me. And remember – I might love the stupid little brat, but _nothing_ will stop me from getting what I deserve – so I'll kill her if necessary," he finished curtly.

"Do you really think I'd let you just waltz into my home and kill my family?" he questioned angrily.

"Considering what I have in my possession, I think that's very likely," he snapped. "Remember my instructions. Do as I say and no one gets hurt – but otherwise, I'll kill everyone that I don't need. Gigi? Not necessary. You? Oh, you _will_ be the first to go," he said angrily. "And Little Loli… well, I'd rather not, but if it's necessary – I won't even hesitate. She'll be dead faster than you could ever imagine. So do as I say, or it's all over. I'll see you soon, _Whit_," he finished sharply, before hanging up the phone.

He dropped the cordless phone, where it clattered to the floor. He took in a shuddering breath, and ran his hands through his hair.

He had so much to do to get her back, and hardly any time to do it in. He swallowed a sob, and picked up the phone again.

**A/N: Hahaha, hows THAT for a twist? Did you like it? Do you think I'm MAAAAAAAD? /)~(\ Cos I probably am… hehe, please review! :D**


	47. Final Lair Part 1: Waking Nightmare

**A/N: I updated early because I thought that cliff-hanger was a little too mean for you all :D So enjoy!**

She had no idea how long she had been unconscious, or where she was, but Loli could definitely tell the moment that she woke up that she was in big trouble.

"Have you gained some weight?" she questioned James pointedly when she had properly opened her eyes. She was still lying in the back of the sedan, and they were still moving quite quickly. She guessed that they were in England by that stage – or at least quite close. Her hands were bound with thick rolls of duct tape, and her ankles were also bound together with the rather painful material.

"Funny, really," he replied mindlessly, fiddling with his Blackberry, frowning slightly.

"Really Jamie, it's kind of pathetic. You look like the back end of a horse," she informed him coolly. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to let you go, Little Loli," he informed her, still staring at his Blackberry. "So you can insult me all you like, but it won't matter," he added.

"Is that some sort of challenge?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. James let out an exasperated growl.

"Somehow I preferred you when you were unconscious," he muttered. "Now stop distracting me – or I might get annoyed," he snapped. Loli sat up, her head pounding, but it was no longer bleeding.

"Get this crap off of me," she demanded, pulling against the duct tape.

"Sorry my love, but somehow, I doubt your ability to sit still," he countered. Loli snorted in sarcastic laughter.

"Yeah, well if I had my hands right now, you probably wouldn't have balls, so I guess this is lucky for you," she replied pointedly, looking around the car curiously. "Hey! A DVD player!" she cried. "What movies do you have?" she questioned James.

He sent her an incredulous look.

"Not that I'm really that surprised, but aren't you supposed to be trembling in fear or something?" he questioned. "Honestly Little Loli, it's rather disappointing," he sniffed.

"Well maybe you're just not scary," she replied pointedly. "Besides – I've had to deal with Ekaterina du Bourg today – you can't top that," she snapped. James rolled his eyes once more.

"We've got _The Phantom of the Opera_ or_ The Godfather III_," he offered her blankly.

"Oh! Phantom of the Opera!" she cried excitedly, but the sudden movement and vocal exertions sent another stabbing pain to her head. James muttered something as he dug the DVD out from behind the passenger seat, before popping out the disk, and placing it in the DVD player that was suspended from the ceiling of the car.

"You're a freak," he informed her. She shrugged.

"Are you kidding? I'm being kidnapped by a useless piece of scum. What the hell am I supposed to do for the rest of this trip, other than listen to your wining and bitching about an inheritance that you don't deserve?" she questioned pointedly, watching as the usual piracy warnings came up on the screen. "Besides. If it's between Gerard Butler or _you_, I'd pick Gerard any day," she snapped.

James chuckled, and shook his head quietly.

"You're a wonder, Little Loli," he muttered.

"Yeah, well take your fucking 'bracelets' off me and I'll show you what kind of wonder I am – Rabbit punch style," she added curtly. "Or are you scared that a girl could beat you up?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"To be perfectly honest, I've never seen you angry," he chuckled. "It's amusing. But slightly terrifying, so I think I'll keep them on," he informed her.

"If you think that _this_ is angry, you've got another thing coming," she spat. "Because this is just a little bit miffed. If I were _angry_, it wouldn't matter that my hands and legs are tied together, you would be _dead_," she snapped curtly.

"And how would you go about killing me?" he questioned laughingly, dark eyes twinkling.

"Twihard style. I'd bite you, bitch," she countered angrily. "I've learnt a _lot_ from crazy fangirls – they sure can defend themselves," she threatened. "Anime fangirls are the worst – and I swear to God, if I had a Death Note, you would be _toast_. As it is, I can still go _Moon, Prism, Power_ on your ass – I don't even need Tuxedo mask," she added curtly.

"Uh… I didn't get that. But I'll let you rant, if you want," he replied, frowning slightly, and turning back to his Blackberry.

"That's right, pretty boy, go play with your little toys," she muttered darkly. James had to stifle more laughter as he continued to work.

"I have to kidnap you more often. You're quite fun, you know, Little Loli," he replied, shaking his head quietly. Loli glared at him, and settled back in the seat, glancing up at the DVD player screen.

In truth, she was terrified. But what could she do, other than keep calm? If she was going to get through whatever he had in plan, she had to remain calm – she had to act reasonably. Irritating him was one thing, but she couldn't initiate anymore violence – she had a baby to look after, she reminded herself.

She ran through escape plans and theories as they drove, paying no attention to the movie. She was trying to glance out the window, trying to recognise something that would tell her where she was, but all she could see was darkness. It was late at night, and the windows were tinted to the point or ridiculousness. She pressed the towel against the gash on the back of her head where she had been pushed against the window, she didn't think it was that serious, but she realised that she probably had a concussion, she was feeling rather dizzy.

"So what's your plan?" she questioned suddenly, about an hour since she had awoken. James glanced at her momentarily, before turning back to his Blackberry.

"You're my bargaining chip," he replied, after a short pause. "Whit cares for you too much for his own good. This way, I can get what should be rightfully mine with very little violence," he informed her.

"What, and raping Gigi for months on end, and throwing me against bullet-proof glass was completely painless for all involved?" she retorted angrily. He rolled his eyes.

"I know this is going to sound stupid, but I tried to make the whole Gigi situation as un-rape-like as possible, and I didn't _want_ to hurt you, but you need to learn that I'm not the person you should be denying right now," he replied curtly.

"Yeah. You're right. It _does_ sound stupid," she snapped. "'Un-rape-like'? Where the hell did you get _that_ term from?" she questioned pointedly. James gave another exasperated mutter.

"I admit that what I did to Gigi was forced – but not violent," he informed her with irritation. "She was a means to an end. Just like you are, and just like Callum is," he added pointedly.

"Wow, you should win some sort of award for that," she said bitterly. "Because that's some of the best _crap_ that I've ever seen performed," she snapped.

"Lolita, you had best hold your tongue right now!" he cried angrily. "Because I'm not afraid to hurt you – remember – I only need you _alive_, your condition isn't an issue," he snapped coldly. She glared at him obstinately.

"You're a liar. And a fake. You don't deserve the Darcy name – you deserve _nothing_, you pig," she spat.

She winced when he lunged towards her and wrapped one hand around her neck tightly. She struggled with her bondage, trying to harm him with her tied fists, but it was no use, he only squeezed tighter.

"Shut _up_," he ordered her coldly. She spluttered. He raised his tightening fingers up from her throat to her jaw, clenching it tightly, his dark eyes driving sharply into hers.

"L – let _go_," she demanded, her voice strained from the pressure that he had put on it.

"I want silence, Little Loli, or else I won't be so gentle," he threatened quietly, but the intensity of his angry words were not lost on her. She said nothing, narrowing her sharp glare, holding eye contact. "And it'd be a shame for me to have to break that lovely little neck of yours," he added coolly.

"You disgust me," she hissed quietly. He smirked.

"That's a bit of a turn-on, really," he muttered, moving forwards, pressing his lips against hers harshly, but she pursed hers, trying to stop the contact, pulling away. He took what he wanted from her lips by force, pressing harshly against them in a bruising attempt at a kiss, scraping his teeth over her bottom lip. He chuckled against her mouth. "You won't resist me forever," he whispered, pulling away. She blinked back hot, angry tears.

"Leave me alone," she demanded weakly. The pain in her head and the nauseating sickness she felt in her stomach with the feel of his lips on hers torturing hers left her lacking in strength to pull away.

"Sit tight, we should be arriving soon," he informed her, moving back to his side of the seat. Loli shuddered, and pulled her legs beneath her chin, trying to blink away her tears as she continued to try and see _anything_ of the outside world inside her dark prison.

James said nothing for another half hour. The car began to slow, and she felt like they were moving up something, possibly a driveway. She peered desperately out of the window, but all she could make out was a few blurred shapes and lights in the distance. She was feeling very dizzy – she guessed a side effect of her concussion. She tried to sit up properly, but the entire care felt like it was spinning around madly.

"Now then Little Loli, I'm going to carry you inside, because I know that you'd try and run otherwise, and I don't particularly _want_ an excuse to shoot you," James announced. "Malcolm, just leave her bags by the door, she'll have no need to unpack," he said to the hired help in the front seat. The bulky man nodded.

"Where are we?" Loli questioned frowningly.

"Don't you recognise your own home? My, I'm disappointed, Little Loli," he replied, as the two men in the front got out of the car, very carefully. "So we're going to wait in here for a few minutes – I've already had a few men come in and… look after things, make sure that your stupidly noble husband has done all I ask of him, but we're waiting for one final look over before we go inside, okay?" he clarified to Loli.

"I hate you," she spat angrily. He gave a small sigh, and smiled.

"Hearts are fickle things – you'll change your mind," he assured her. "Now, when we get inside, you say nothing, just sit nice and still like a good little girl, whilst Whit and I discuss a few things. Hopefully he'll cooperate, and you and I can leave with Callum quietly. He can't live, of course, but until he signs those custody papers, he's no use to me dead," he informed her. "In fact, if he signs the right things in the right order, I might not have to kill him at all. Wouldn't that be nice?" he questioned her with a smile, but she only scowled. "Gigi shouldn't be an issue, I have no _intention_ of harming her, but I will, if necessary," he added, when she said nothing.

"And how the hell do you expect to get away with this?" Loli questioned angrily. James grinned cheekily.

"Now _that_ would be telling, but aren't you at least a _little_ bit curious as to how I've avoided prison all these years?" he questioned her. She narrowed her eyes.

"Who are you sleeping with?" she questioned coolly. He chuckled.

"Nothing like that, my dear. But the thing is – I've never been _charged_ with anything. I'm very careful. I can frame any old Joe off the street after a ten minute conversation with him," he informed her proudly. "I'm a very well trained con, I've been pulling stunts like this since before you were born. I'm quite the professional," he added.

"I think professional is a bit rich, I'll stick to 'scum'," she retorted, turning away from him. Before James could reply, a sharp tapping was heard on the window of the car door. He let the window slide down, coming face to face with the bulky, chubby faced Malcolm.

"It's clear. The family is inside, security has been disabled," he informed his employer. James nodded.

"Come now Little Loli, it's time," he said, as the door was opened for him. Loli sent him an angry glare, and sat still. He sighed, and slammed the door shut. She immediately started to shuffle away, looking for her phone, or something to cut her bindings with, but the door on her side opened, and James gripped her wrist, pulling her out of the car. She struggled, but it was useless, he was twice her size.

"Pig!" she cried angrily, but it earned her a slap on the cheek.

"Not so loud, Little Loli," he hissed, as she fell to the ground, unable to support herself on her bound legs. He grasped again at her wrist, and pulled her upright, into his arms. He wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing it tightly as he stormed up towards the front entrance to the grand London townhouse that she had missed so much.

She scanned the grounds, looking for something; anything that could tell her what was going on. She saw only darkness as she was dragged up to the front doors, which opened before he even knocked.

The man that greeted them was unfamiliar to Loli, he was very large, with skin as dark as the night which she was enveloped in. He nodded, and stepped aside, as James continued to pull her into the house.

"Let go, you prick!" she snapped, struggling against his grip, twisting in his arms, trying to hold herself up with her bound legs. She was feeling weak, but she _had_ to escape his hold.

"Quiet!" he roared, wheeling around, and slapping her sharply against her face once more, much harder than before, harder even than Lady Ekaterina. She let out a cry, but swallowed it back almost immediately.

"You aren't going to get away with this! This is probably a trap – let me go and just _leave_ if you know what's good for you!" she advised angrily.

"That's hardly a way to enter a nice house, Little Loli," snapped James curtly, pulling her back up, and dragging her struggling form into the front room.

The scene she was met with broke her heart. A pale, tear stricken Gigi sat in a corner, clutching tightly to her child as she looked around in fear, two more large men standing beside her, their presence looming and possessive.

Whit stood, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, glaring at the men who had taken over his home with hostility. He looked tired and drawn, wearing black slacks and a crumpled white shirt that was untucked, hardly buttoned, his hair longer than she remembered it, with some definite curl at the ends, falling over his face in a dishevelled manner that she had thought only Richard capable of. His stubble was starting to surpass five o'clock shadow to become a more permanent feature of his face, one that was decidedly attractive, and huge purple bags sat beneath his eyes, which were narrowed, and filled with anger. There were four men in the room that she was entering, all of which could be carbon cut-outs of cartoon thugs.

"Loli!" squealed Gigi as she was dragged into the room. "They got you too?" she cried, her eyes wide and afraid.

"I'm fine," Loli managed to get out, still pulling against the grip of her captor. She turned her head to meet her husband's gaze, who was staring at her with an unreadable expression.

"You've hurt her," he growled furiously, glaring at James.

"It was necessary, I'm afraid," he replied nonchalantly. "Just a knock to the head a few slaps and bruises, not much," he recited, throwing her at the chaise. She broke her fall with her bound hands, and shakily managed to use her hopelessly bound legs to raise herself to sit on it, needles of pain still throbbing up her arms and legs. "Hello Gigi, long time no see, is that Callum then?" he said with a smirk, turning towards his former victim, who trembled in fear with his intense gaze. "I've grown a bit of a beard since I saw you last, and the ponytail was a novelty for a while, but I got over that," he informed her lightly.

"I – I –" she stammered.

"You have no permission to speak with her," snapped Whit coldly. "I want to talk with my wife and sister, for a moment," he announced. James chuckled.

"Sadly, you can't," he replied. "I'm running the show here, and I just don't trust you," he added.

Loli winced as she shifted on the couch, trying to support herself properly. Her arms and legs were killing her, and her head was throbbing in anguish, not to mention the dizziness she felt. She tried to move, but it was becoming difficult, the constraints of her bondage and injury restraining her.

"She's in pain! Let me get her something!" Whit cried angrily.

"I've got some aspirin, if you really think she needs it," James offered coolly, glancing around the room, frowning slightly.

"She can't _have_ aspirin, it's bad for her blood," Whit snapped. "I refuse to cooperate if she's harmed in any way, let me take her upstairs, she needs _rest_, so does Gigi and Callum," he continued.

"Oh no, I don't think so," laughed James smugly, approaching Loli. "No one is leaving this room until I say so – and I _don't_ say so," he added curtly. "How are you holding up then, Little Loli?" he questioned her. She managed to mutter something under her breath, but she was feeling desperately weak, so much so that she could barely move.

"What have you done to her?" cried Whit angrily. She heard footsteps as he moved across the room, and she opened her eyes painfully. He was struggling against one of the larger men to get to her, his face set and determined.

"A light concussion, Whit, so calm down," snapped James. "I don't think you understand who exactly is in charge of this – _me_, not you," he said pointedly. Whit stopped struggling, glaring at his opposition with fiery eyes.

"Untie her! She's not going anywhere," he demanded. James crossed his arm against his chest. "She can hardly move – just take that tape off," he snapped, lowering his voice.

"I suppose that won't cause too much damage," he replied calmly, turning back to Loli. He pulled out a small pocket knife from his coat and flicked it open, sliding it under the thick black tape, and in one sharp motion, cut through it.

"Ouch!" Loli cried, wincing as he nicked the smooth ivory skin of her wrist. Whit made a movement to go to her side, but he was stopped once more by the looming form of one of the many bouncer-like figures in the room.

"Sorry about that, Little Loli," James apologised, smirking as he tore the remains of the tape from her hands. She said nothing, as he lowered himself to his knees, and took her entwined legs in his hands, running them up and down her calves slowly. "My, what lovely legs you have…" he muttered teasingly, as Whit gritted his teeth, and clenched his fists.

"All the better to kick you with!" Loli spat, pushing her legs into his chest, but she didn't have the proper leverage for it to do any harm.

James chuckled, and took hold of her legs once again, running the blade slowly over the skin, so it was barely touching, but enough for Loli to shiver with the feel of the cold, hard metal. He traced it slowly over her knee, and then even further. She shifted away from him as he ran it up the inside of her thigh, pushing past the light blue cotton of her dress.

"Keep your filthy hands off her!" demanded Whit furiously. "And don't you _dare_ put that knife anywhere near her, or so help me God –"

"You'll _what_, Whit, struggle fruitlessly at me?" James snapped back, angered that his little game had been interrupted. He cut at the bindings around her ankles, and ripped the tape from them sharply, before stepping back. "You happy? Because I could easily keep on going," he threatened, holding up the knife, the blade glinting under the manufactured light, a little smudge of crimson blood from her wrist sliding over the surface. "I told you – if I can avoid it, I'd rather _not_ hurt her – but I won't hesitate whatsoever," he snapped.

"What the hell do you _want_, Wickham?" Whit spat in return, trying to calm his tone. James chuckled in response.

"Only what should have been mine," he answered. "Your father _loved_ me, I was more of a son to him than you; _I _should have been his heir!" he cried, growing agitated. "But _no_, you had to get everything that I ever wanted! You never appreciated how lucky you were, and then you denied me what should have been mine!" he continued with frustration. "I want the inheritance that should have been _mine_, I was a better son to him than you ever were – I _deserve_ it," he snapped darkly.

"You don't deserve anything," Whit replied coolly, breaking free of the bulky man, and moving back towards his original position, still surveying the damage to Loli with narrowed eyes.

"_Wrong_, Fitzwhitlam, I deserve everything that _you_ have," James spat in return. "I want the entire Darcy fortune – which includes the business Empire, the estates, _including_ Pemberley and the London house, _all_ assets, and all that old money just burning a hole in your pocket," he listed. "Oh, and Lolita, of course," he added. "She can look after Callum – I have to keep the kid to inherit what's mine, right?" he questioned.

"It's not within my power to give you any of that, James," Whit spat coldly. James gave a chuckle.

"You know, I'd take a settlement, if it's absolutely necessary," he replied. "If you give me Pemberley, Lolita, custody of Callum, and let's say… one hundred million pounds, then no one gets hurt," he stated, slowly strolling around the room, as if he owned the place. "Of course, you can't remarry, and you can't have any heirs, but I'll be perfectly happy to postpone your death until I either run out of money, or you commit suicide, just as long as it's before the little tike's twenty-first," he assured him.

"How about you get out of my house immediately, and take your men with you?" Whit snapped coldly in return.

Loli wondered why he wasn't terrified. She seemed to be slipping in and out of lucidness, but she was thinking clearly enough to be frightened – they were all carrying giant guns, and James had no joking tones in his voice. Gigi was sobbing quietly, holding Callum to her body tightly, but Whit just seemed to be some sort of pillar of strength. He was barely flinching at all, even though someone was pointing a gun to his chest. She wasn't quite trembling from fear, her anger was too red-hot for her to feel the true danger of the situation, but that didn't mean that she wasn't afraid.

"You're an idiot if you think I'm giving you _anything_. Not my home, not my money, and _certainly_ not my wife and nephew," he continued curtly.

"Oh he's a stubborn one," James laughed, strolling back over to Loli. She shifted away from him – she couldn't risk anymore damage for the sake of the baby – but it was fruitless. He reached out a weathered hand, and stroked it over her cheek, across her jaw, and down her neck. She saw Whit's expression harden from behind James.

"Keep your hands off her," he demanded coldly, but it held more intensity than she had ever heard him use before.

"Did it make you angry, Whit, to know that I'd touched her before _you_?" James questioned, not turning around, still focussed on his caress of her neck and shoulders, covered by a white short sleaved collared shirt that was stained with crimson blood. She wondered briefly where her trench coat and gone – but she couldn't connect the thoughts as she pulled away from her captor. "Kissing the lips that I'd already kissed? Stroking the skin that I'd already stroked?" he questioned. Whit's jaw continued to tighten, his expression turning venomous. "How did it feel to make love to a woman who'd already experienced _me_?" he asked, pulling his hand away from her skin.

"Get away from me!" she commanded him angrily, backing away as far as she could from his vile hands and cruel little smirks.

"You idiot – she was a virgin before she met me," Whit snapped. "I know you didn't sleep with her, you didn't even kiss her, you lying scum," he spat.

"Really? A virgin?" laughed James, glancing back to Loli. "Can you be _sure_ about that?" he teased. Whit rolled his eyes.

"You know very well that I _can_, considering all the young women you've _raped_ – you disgusting son-of-a-bitch," he responded angrily. James chuckled.

"Not as many as you think, my old friend," he said, stepping towards Gigi, who cowered in fear, edging away from him and holding her son closely. "Hello there Sprout, how have you been?" he questioned pleasantly. Gigi let out a tiny sob.

"L – l – leave m – me al – alone," she commanded weakly.

"Get away from her!" Loli cried. "Let her come over here, and get your thugs away from her!" she demanded. James sent her a silencing glance.

"Oh no, separate is best for now, I think," he replied coolly. "I don't want to shoot for one and get the other," he added smugly.

"You won't be shooting _anyone_, James," Whit growled angrily. "Let the girls sit together – and Lolita needs medical attention, if you won't let me call an ambulance, at least let Gigi try and have a look at her head," he demanded.

"Whit, I'm fine," Loli assured her husband, speaking directly to him for the first time since she had arrived. James' next slap across her cheek came as a complete surprise, and she let out a small cry, clutching the side of her face.

"Now I thought that I told you not to talk, Little Loli," he said coolly. "Especially to _him_," he added angrily.

"You bastard," Whit practically breathed. "She didn't do anything wrong! How _dare_ you drag her into this?" he cried angrily.

"I think she looks just as pretty when she's bruised, don't you?" James commented, stepping towards her again, ignoring Whit's objections. He put a hand to the side of her face.

"Don't touch me, _scum_," she spat angrily, struggling as he ran his hand over her cheek, and into her scarlet locks. She pushed him away with her hands, but he caught them quickly, squeezing them together tightly until she cried out in pain, unable to feel his rough lips slide over her face, her eyes shut tightly. She tried to push him away with her legs, but he pinned them to the sofa with his own.

"Get away from her!" Whit commanded furiously. "She's not some _plaything_ for you – she's my _wife_!" he cried.

"Loli, darling," James cooed softly. "Who would you rather be with? Me, or _him_?" he questioned, kneeling down to meet her eyes. "Keep in mind, Little Loli, that the wrong decision will end quite badly for your former lover," he added darkly.

Loli winced at the thought, and glanced over James' shoulder to meet Whit's eyes. She swallowed nervously. He gave her the smallest of comforting smiles, and her heart soared. She turned her gaze back to the man before her.

"I think the ring on my fingers says it all, James," she said coolly. His smirk grew twisted, contorting his handsome face as he scowled.

"You'll change your mind, I can assure you," he practically spat, pulling away from her.

"She won't," Whit assured him, crossing his arms against his chest. "My wife is tired. Let her rest – she has nothing to do with this," he added coolly.

"She has _everything_ to do with this!" James cried angrily. "After all the time I wasted on her – _I _deserve a little in return," he added, glaring angrily at Whit.

"Your wasting even more of your time here, James, because I've already told your _bitches_, I'm in no position to hand anything over to you – the Darcy Family Law has changed. Even if you get custody of Callum, which you _won't_, and even if you kill me, which you _won't_, you don't stand to inherit a penny," he replied coolly. James laughed quietly.

"You know, you should have been an actor, Whit," he praised. "Do you have any documentation of that little change you made?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow, and smirking.

"The change was only made official yesterday, I haven't received my copy of the forms yet," he answered, his lip twitching ever so slightly. "But you can call my lawyers – they'll tell you all you need to know," he added.

"And _yet_, somehow I don't believe you," James replied. "All I need you to do is sign a few things, and then I _don't_ need you. But if you settle, I won't have to kill you. Yet," he added darkly.

"I can't give you what you want, James, I made sure that you won't get a penny no matter _what_ happens," he informed him coolly. "And all I had to do was cancel out one little clause with the official law – I don't know why I didn't see it earlier," he snapped.

"What on _earth_ are you talking about? Those laws are airtight, it'd take months, _years_ to change them," James replied with irritation. Whit smirked.

"The first and foremost rule is that only a _Darcy_ heir is to inherit – it was very simple to use that rule to cancel out the clause that allowed the parent of guardian control over the trust fund until the inheriting party was of age," he replied smugly. "So you can have custody of Callum, but you can't touch that money _at all_, it sits in a bank gaining interest until my nephew turns of age – and even then, only _he_ can use it," he added coolly.

"You're lying," laughed James. Whit raised an eyebrow in response.

"But _you_ can't be sure," he countered pointedly. James' laugh died, and his smile flickered.

"No, I can't," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean that I can't cover my bases," he snapped, pushing his jacket aside, and pulling out an old fashioned handgun from a holster on his side. Loli tensed in fear as he took it in his hand, and checked the ammunition. It was loaded.

"Don't be stupid, James," Whit said, trying to keep his voice calm, but Loli could hear the concern seeping into his tone. "This won't get you anything other than a prison sentence," he continued, his eyes glued to the gun, his jaw set and tight as Gigi whimpered.

"Don't you _dare_ hurt him, James," Loli instructed angrily. "No one in this room has ever done anything to harm you – if you had any common sense you would _leave_, right now," she added pointedly, feeling some of her strength return.

"Little Loli, you're doing _far_ too much talking," James spat angrily, turning around quickly, pointing the gun straight at her heart.

She froze, staring down the barrel of the gun, barely hearing Whit and Gigi's loud cries of protest. She swallowed. She had to play carefully – she still had a baby, _her_ baby, _Whit's_ baby to look after.

"You make me very sad, James," she said calmly, trying to swallow her fear. "It'd have to be kind of lonely, being a con, wouldn't it?" she questioned, tearing her eyes away from the gun, meeting his face. "But why this family?"

"Because when we were children, _he_ had everything, and he never appreciated it!" James snapped angrily, his hand shaking, but he didn't move the gun. "My parents had to scrimp and save _everything_ to send me to that school, and it was _nothing_ to the Darcys! I had absolutely nothing, and the great Lord Fitzwhitlam Darcy wanders into my way, getting everything he wanted, just because he _could_!" he snapped, his hand shaking even more as he grew emotional, his face twisted.

"But you had nothing, right?" she questioned softly.

"I lived in a crappy little estate apartment on the East Side with my good-for-nothing parents, all I had was my school uniform and a pair of old jeans! _He_ had horses, dogs, cars, motorbikes, we didn't even have a _TV_, and he had a fucking butler waiting on his every whim!" he cried. "And he was such a jerk! Always letting your know that he was better than you, all he did was chase skirts with the other rich SOBs! And all the girls just _loved_ him, because _he_ was the handsome one, _he_ was the rich one, _he_ was the smart one, no one cared about _me_ because Lord Fitzwhitlam _Darcy_ was around!" he continued furiously.

"But you two became friends," she probed carefully. James rolled his dark eyes.

"I had to kiss his ass every _fucking_ day, and he only took me to Pemberley because he _pitied_ me, because I _amused_ him, the poor, lower-class little charity case," he snapped. "I had to go through life watching him get _everything_ that he wanted, and when old man Darcy carked it, _I_ was supposed to be taken care of! _I_ was supposed to be looked after, but Whit went out of his way to make sure that I didn't get _anything_!" he cried.

"You aren't angry at Whit, James," Loli said softly, her voice quivering, but she went on. "You're angry at the whole world. He had everything that you wanted, but it wasn't _his_ fault that you didn't have anything, he couldn't help being rich, he couldn't exactly hand his title back to his parents, and there were probably hundreds of other boys in that school that were rich and didn't deserve to be, why not them?" she questioned carefully. James scoffed.

"Be_cause_, my dear Little Loli, it was _his_ father that loved me like a son, not any of the others," he snapped.

"But this isn't going to help, you can't take the inheritance anymore, the laws have changed. And hurting people tonight will only land you in prison," she rationalised.

"Even if they _do_ get me, Little Loli, I'd rather rot in prison, knowing that _he_ is dead," he said, tilting his head across to glance angrily at Whit, "than stay clean, knowing that I had my chance, but didn't do anything," he finished coolly.

"But what's the point in killing him if you can't get any of the inheritance?" she questioned softly.

"I can fight Gigi for Callum's custody, and I'll get it one day. But if _he_ lives," he began, once again gesturing towards Whit, "then he'll have an heir. And _that_ heir will get everything," he snapped.

Loli bit her lip. Every single second they spoke it was dawning on her; _she was carrying the Darcy heir_.

She wanted to be sick. If James knew… she would be _so_ dead.

"If I die before Callum is of age, the money goes into a trust fund for _Callum_, and only a Darcy can control that," Whit spat. "Lower your gun," he commanded sternly.

"Oh, but isn't it funny? She looks like a trapped deer," he laughed. Loli narrowed her eyes angrily, sending a fiery glare back towards her captor.

"James, just put the gun down, it looks old, you don't know who could get hurt," she tried to rationalise with him. He smirked.

"_Fear_ certainly becomes you, Little Loli," he teased.

"James, put down the gun," she said calmly, moving to stand up slowly. "I'll cooperate if you need me to, just _put it down_…" she directed him slowly. She held her hands up in surrender as she rose.

"Lolita, _sit down_!" Whit cried forcefully, but his voice was almost quivering in fear.

"James, just _think_, this isn't solving anything," she said calmly, ignoring her husband as she slowly continued to stand.

"He deserves to pay," he snapped in return.

"But not like this," she tried to soothe; now standing on her feet, still holding her hands out. "Just put the gun down," she instructed carefully, taking a slow step towards him.

"How on _earth_ did you fall in love with a prick like him?" he questioned angrily. "Was it because of his money?" he asked her.

"No, it wasn't," she replied quietly. "James, I'm not going to hurt you, but if you don't put the gun down, you're just going to hurt someone else," she said calmly.

"Sit down Little Loli, I don't want to have to hurt _you_," he instructed.

"Not unless you put the gun down," she bargained. He laughed.

"You think I won't shoot you," he stated with a smirk. "Because I have feelings for you, you think that I'll spare you," he continued, taking a step forwards. "No dice, honey," he said quietly, before lunging.

He slammed the butt of the gun into her throat. Searing pain tore through her, and she fell backwards, breaking her fall once again with her hands, before she crumpled on the floor, clutching her throat. He kicked her clavicle sharply, earning a choked cry.

"You monster!" Whit cried furiously. She saw him rise to his feet, trying desperately to push past the hired help to get to her.

"_Now_ do you realise how serious I am, _Whit_?" James spat curtly, stepping towards him, his face twisted with anger. He held the gun up and aimed it at Whit's face, until the barrel was only a few inches away from touching him. "How _deadly_ serious I can be when you take what's mine?" he snapped.

"Leave him alone!" Gigi whimpered desperately from her corner. Loli tried to speak, but her throat felt like it had been ripped from her neck.

"You can shoot, but you won't get a thing," Whit replied angrily, still struggling against the men pulling him back, his expression filled with both fire and ice as he glared furiously at his enemy.

"I don't want you dead just yet, old friend," he replied coolly. "Kneel," he demanded furiously, cocking the gun.

"For the likes of you? I don't think so," he practically growled in response. James only laughed, and took another step forwards, punching him swiftly in the stomach. Whit gave a small groan, but he didn't kneel. James directed a sharp kick to his shin, and he stumbled, falling to the ground when he received a blow to the side of his head. He would have risen if he wasn't being held to the floor by two men, but when he tried to stand up again, James thrust his knee against his jaw.

"Good boy," he said patronisingly. "Now stay, boy, or I'll shoot," he threatened. "Probably Gigi, I'm getting rather fond of Little Loli," he added thoughtfully. Whit spat on his shoes. "_Bad_ boy!" he cried, kicking him in the side. He fell back, before James kicked him in the stomach.

"Stop it! Please stop!" Gigi demanded tearfully.

"_Stay_ boy!" he snapped, when Whit made a move to fight back. James stomped on his left hand with big black boots, causing Whit to cry out loudly in pain. He clutched his wounded hand in right, his face contorted. "Good boy. Now note that I didn't break your writing hand – I'll still need you to sign a few things," he snapped, stepping away.

"H – how d – did you f – find Lo – Loli?" Gigi questioned, rocking her baby softly to silence the quiet little cries it was making. James smirked.

"From someone I can only assume you trusted," he replied cheekily. Gigi tearfully glanced over to Loli.

"C – Clarkson," she stammered out, her voice returning, but her neck still pounding in pain. Gigi's eyes went wide.

"Are you sure?" she exclaimed.

"N – no, but it m – makes sense," she choked out brokenly.

"No. Not Clarkson," Whit managed to say, slowly trying to sit up and wincing in pain, his left hand all but useless. "Never," he assured them, shaking his head.

"Enough talking, I think," James announced. "I want forms. I want signatures. I want decisions!" he cried loudly, as if he were some sort of triumphant leader. "Now, first and foremost, I need to be granted partial custody of Callum, and full rights of guardian," he stated. "Oh – and Power of Attorney for your Will, Whit, would be helpful to," he added.

"I need my lawyers for that," he spat out darkly, managing to sit up. James smirked.

"But you _don't_ need your lawyers to give me custody of Callum," he reminded him smugly. "So, custody over Callum, I don't give a shit about visitation rights, because honestly, I'd rather _not_ have to look after the brat, but just as long as I'm his guardian, I don't give a damn," he added. Gigi whimpered in protest.

"I don't you! You can't get anything from this," Whit spat in return. "We destroyed the 'in the event of' clause about power of financial control – there's _nothing_ you can do!" he spat.

"Are you willing to state your life on that? James questioned coolly.

"Yes," he replied firmly, still nursing his hand.

"What about hers?" he asked, turning the gun away from him, back to Loli, who was still on the ground, unable to make too much neck and shoulder movement, which was stopping her from sitting up properly. Whit's jaw tightened, and his lips twitched as his eyes met hers.

"Yes," he answered, his voice weaker, but still definite. "Gaining custody won't get you anything – and neither will killing me," he assured him firmly. James chuckled.

"Oh, but it'll feel _so_ good," he muttered, wheeling the gun back to face Whit, and pulling on the trigger.

**A/N: Hehehehe… oh I'm evil… please review! ^__^**


	48. The Final Lair Part 2: Theme Medley

**A/N: Two cliffies in a row, I was just **_**too**_** mean :D**

**Disclaimer: The song used is 'Crosses' by José Gonzales.**

Gigi shrieked, and Loli let out a cry as the gun fired.

"Oh God no, oh please no!" Gigi wailed, as Callum burst into tears. The room was filled with smoke from the moment the gun fired, and the stench of aging gunpowder.

"Whit! Whit!" Loli cried, trying to pull herself up and see what had happened. The smoke took a moment to clear, a terrible, horrifying moment.

"_Shit_," came a low, deep and pained groan. Whit was sprawled across the floor, clutching his left thigh, blood pouring onto the hardwood floor. He let out a pained cry, stifling it by gritting his teeth together. "I – I'm f – fine," he got out, his voice practically a growl.

"I was aiming for your balls, but I guess that'll do," James mused thoughtfully.

"Let me help him!" Loli demanded, wincing through the pain as she tried to rise.

"And why would I do that?" he snapped curtly.

"_Please_, Jamie, let me help him," she begged tearfully, holding his gaze. He frowned, and nodded.

"Fine," he spat coldly. Loli slowly and carefully moved across the floor to where her bleeding husband lay, clenching his fists, biting his lips, squeezing his eyes together, and perspiring as the pain coursed through him. She moved to him deftly when he gave a small, pained whimper, wiping back her tears as she practically flew to his side.

"Whit, stay with me, okay?" she begged him tearfully, smoothing back his hair which was sticking to his skin. His face was twisted in pain.

"I'm fine," he breathed out, giving her a tiny, pained smile, his eyes cracking open slowly. "G – God you – you're beautiful," he said softly, raising his uninjured hand to caress her cheek slowly. His eyes took in her cuts and bruises with concern. "A – are you okay?" he questioned, his voice strained.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm going to look at your leg, okay?" she said softly. He winced, and nodded, closing his eyes once again. She moved back slightly, her eyes going to his wound. Some of the material of his pants was already torn, but she carefully tore it more to see the point of entry. She winced when she saw how much blood was spilling from the torn flesh, and looked around for something to use to wipe it away.

"Hurry up, I don't want him dead," James said uninterestedly, as he perused some of the books on the end table. "Yet," he added with a smirk.

Loli started to pull at the white shirt she wore beneath her pale blue pinafore dress. After a few seconds of struggling and several broken buttons she managed to get it off, and holding one side between her teeth, she started to tear it into strips as Whit let out another groan of pain.

Using one of the ruined sleaves, she started to wipe away the blood. It came again quickly, but she was able to see the wound clearly. She shifted his leg slightly, and he let out a loud cry of anguish, but it confirmed her suspicions. The bullet was lodged in the hardwood floor. It had grazed the side of his leg, deep enough to cause some decent damage, but nothing too serious. She breathed a sigh of relief, and took a strip of her home-made bandages, pressing down on the injury firmly to stop the bleeding. He cried out again in pain. It would need stitches, but there was very little she could do until he got to a hospital.

"I – is he okay?" Gigi questioned fearfully. Loli raised her head, and smiled at her sister-in-law softly.

"He'll be fine," she assured her. "He's a little fighter," she added, glancing back to her husband's face. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly, and he was wincing, clenching his fist tightly to distract him from the pain.

"I l – love you," he managed to say gasp out quietly. She smiled warmly in return, feeling her eyes sparkle with tears.

_Damn hormones_, she thought.

"I love you too," she replied softly, checking his thigh. The bleeding had stopped enough for her to wrap some bandages around it.

He choked out another half declaration of love, half cry of pain, his voice strained as she started to reach for the bandages. The tears threatened for fall from her eyes. She knew that he must be in complete agony.

"You'll be fine, I promise," she assured him softly. He momentarily gave a small smile, before he winced as she started to bind his leg up.

"Thank you," he gasped out softly.

She worked through her own pain in her shoulder, not letting him see how much distress she was in. When he gave another little gasp of pain, she began to softly sing. She had seen her mother do it to Eve when she was upset, so she hoped it could work on her husband. "_Don't you know, that I'll be around to guide you? Through your weakest moments, to leave them behind you, returning nightmares, only shadows. We'll cast some light and you'll be alright, we'll cast some light and you'll be alright, for now_…" she sung quietly.

She glanced up at his face. His eyes were still closed, but his face was no longer twisted in pain. His breathing started to ease, and he loosened his fist.

"_Crosses all over, heavy on your shoulders,  
The sirens inside me waiting to step forward,  
Disturbing silence darkens your sight,_

We'll cast some light and you'll be all right,  
We'll cast some light and you'll be all right for now…" she continued softly, wrapping the bandage tightly around his leg.

"It's rather sweet that you're singing _him_ a lullaby, shouldn't it be the other way around?" James questioned, glancing over at the two.

"Fuck off," she spat at him angrily. He smirked, and wandered over to her. She tossed her long curls back over her shoulder, and continued to work on her husband's leg. "I hate you, James Wickham! You're a fucking monster – and I swear to God – you _will_ pay for this," she continued angrily, her eyes flashing darkly. James still stared at her with a small smirk.

"I wonder if you know how stunning you look right now, Little Loli," he commented, stepping over Whit, and kneeling beside her. She ignored him, and took another bandage for Whit's leg.

"G – get away from her," he managed to spit out darkly. His pain obviously subsiding as his panic left him. James chuckled.

"You're in no position to stop me from doing anything," he reminded him with a smirk. "She's very pretty when she's angry, isn't she?" he commented, turning back to Loli, who refused to look at him. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair, causing her fringe to fall forwards into her face, curling tightly at the ends. She placed one end of the pin between her teeth and started to twist it, so the end was hooked over. She used it to secure the bandages together so they wouldn't slip from Whit's leg. "That lovely white skin… the curve of her jaw…" he trailed off, raising his hand to trace invisible patterns over her skin. She pulled away in disgust, but continued to work.

"L – Leave her," Whit commanded dangerously, shifting slightly as he tried to sit up.

"Finders keepers, Whit," James laughed, sliding his arm quickly around Loli's waist, and pulling her to his chest. She struggled and cried out, but he silenced her once again with his cruel, harsh kiss. She was still tender from the bruises that the last had left, and whimpered in pain, trying to push away from him.

"Leave her!" Whit cried angrily, shifting so he could try and push James away from his wife.

"You're disgusting!" Loli snapped furiously, pulling away from James as firmly as she could, before starting to back away.

"You'll change your mind, Little Loli," he responded angrily. "And if you _don't_, I'll change it for you," he added coolly. She felt sick at the thought.

"I'm married to _Whit_, I love _him_!" she cried.

"I'd appreciate it if you could love me, but that's not necessary," James snapped. "I just need your body, your mind and your soul are irrelevant," he added coldly.

"I belong to _Whit_ mind, soul, _and_ body – and he belongs to me, too," she replied, her eyes flashing with anger. "I would _never_ let you even _touch_ me – you disgusting pig!" she cried angrily.

"You will _learn_ to love me, you little bitch!" he shouted back.

"I would rather _die_ than love you!"

James glared at her furiously; his glare dark and filled with venom. He moved towards her swiftly, and before she could pull away again, he grabbed her wrist, and twisted her arm, making her writhe in pain.

"Stop! _Stop_!" she screamed, before biting her lip to stop herself from making anymore noise, her twisted arm aggravating the already searing pain of her shoulder. She couldn't even see, or feel anything other than the red-hot agony piercing through her. She wanted it to end. She wanted the pain to just _end_, it was torture, unbearable, unthinkable, tearing her apart until –

She crumpled to the floor as he let go of her, her face so red hot that she didn't even know if she was crying. Her arm and shoulder caught the brunt of the fall, making her cry out once more in agony. She vaguely heard Callum's wails ringing in her ears, and Gigi's cries of protest, but the pain was still coursing through her, and she could hardly even remember her own name. She didn't know how long she had been in his grasp, or crumpled on the floor like a paper flower, but it felt like an eternity.

"Leave h – her alone! Get away from her! I'll do what you want – just leave my family _alone_!" Whit cried furiously, his loud and angered voice ripping through her pain. He sounded absolutely livid, angrier than she had ever heard him. Or perhaps her pain was just distorting everything… She pulled her knees up beneath her chin to cover her stomach. Even through her agony she could realise that James was the kind of man to kick a woman when she was down, and one swift kick to her stomach would be all that was necessary to kill her and Whit's child.

She felt nauseous once more at the thought of a child. It was a stupid moment to be thinking about her impending motherhood, but it was an unhappy thought, no matter the circumstances.

"Shut that brat up!" James commanded sharply. Gigi immediately started to calm Callum, rocking him and cooing softly in his ear. Loli wrenched her eyes open, still clutching her shoulder in pain. "I told you – I _will_ kill the girl – so you had best do _everything_ in your power to give me my fucking inheritance, or I'll shoot again," James cried angrily. "This time, it won't just be a little scratch – she's _dead_," he added darkly.

Loli swallowed, forgetting her pain for a moment.

She knew that James wasn't joking.

~ * ~

"She's done _nothing_ wrong," Whit managed to choke out, pulling himself up to a standing position with his good arm and leg. The pain was still almost unbearable, but his concern for Lolita was more important. And her soft, beautiful voice had soothed and comforted him faster than any pain killer. He used the couch for support, meeting James' dark eyes with anger. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to rip him apart, limb from limb.

Her screams still rung through him in the most hideous torture imaginable. He could tell that she was in extreme pain as she bound his leg, the kick James had directed at her clavicle had been sharp and hard, and he could already see a horrible red bruise begin to emerge over her shoulder. And watching his worst enemy and fear twisting her arm like that, her face contorted in pain, hearing her cry out in anguish, it was too much for him.

"She needs to wash that pretty little mouth of hers out," James snapped darkly. "I guess it still has your _filth_ in it," he spat.

"Leave her. Gigi too – this is between you and I, they don't need to suffer," he commanded angrily. "And get rid of your hired help, let's try and settle this like rational adults," he snapped. James laughed.

"You two, leave," he commanded to two of the bulky men looming behind Whit. "You stand by the door, and you over there," he instructed the other two. Whit tried desperately to catch Lolita's eye as the bodyguards shifted, he needed to let her know that it was going to be okay, that he wasn't going to let anyone hurt her.

"Tell them to get rid of their guns – none of us are armed, and you've got a handgun," he instructed.

"Fine, I'll play along a bit," he laughed, nodding towards the two men still in the room, who begrudgingly took their guns from their pockets, and then took out the ammunition. James took it from them and slid it into the inside of his jacket pocket, before they put their guns on the floor.

"Loli needs painkillers – so do I," he continued, unsure of which hurt more, his leg or his hand. He suspected that a few bones were at least fractured, but nothing that would leave any permanent damage. "And Gigi doesn't need to be here. Let her go," he added.

"Enough of your demands. No one else leaves – and no one gets any painkillers. End of story," James replied coolly. "The thing is, Whit, I don't think that you really _did_ change any laws, not this quickly, so you're going to sign Callum's custody over to me, and _then_ we'll talk," he instructed coldly.

"Even if I grant you custody, I'd have to change my Will for you to inherit anything. It all goes to Gigi right now," he replied, narrowing his eyes.

"God man, enough of these excuses!" James cried angrily. "You know, I'm beginning to think that you're _worried_ about me gaining custody of Callum," he snapped, before smirking. "Oh… I see, you really _haven't_ been able to change anything, and you know that by signing over the custody, there's nothing to stop me," he realised, sounding pleased.

"That's ridiculous," Whit spat in return. "You're being an idiot. There isn't a chance in _hell_ that I'd let you take what isn't yours," he said coldly. James smirked.

"I'm getting tired of these games, Whit," he announced. "You got yourself _shot_ because you didn't want to cooperate, but you _will_ do as I say now," he said coldly. He stepped forwards, until there was only a few inches separating them.

"Go ahead. You get _nothing_," Whit hissed angrily. James scowled, and in one swift move, sent his knee straight into Whit's crotch.

He groaned in pain, and buckled forwards, his bad leg unable to support him as he crumpled to the floor. He swore as James kicked his side once more, but he was unable to pull himself back up, only writhe in pain when James sent another kick to his bandaged leg.

"Please stop it!" Gigi begged tearfully.

"Quiet!" James snapped, stepping away from Whit. "Now. The form?" he questioned, pointing the gun towards Gigi.

"Table. There," Whit managed to mutter as Gigi started to sob in fear. He glanced across the floor to where his wife was lying in a crumpled heap, trying to determine the state of her health. She was breathing, but still looked to be in pain.

"So, because of old times sakes, Whit," James began, walking back towards him with the form and a pen in his hand. "I'm going to give you a choice," he announced.

"Lower your gun," he spat in response. James smirked.

"I'm going to shoot one of these two lovely ladies, no matter what you say, alright?" he said. "And you get to chose which one lives, and which one doesn't," he added, his smirk growing slightly.

"Don't even joke about that," Whit replied darkly, pulling himself up to a sitting position.

"Joking?" repeated James incredulously. "You think I'm _joking_?" he questioned, stepping towards Loli in haste, and grasping a handful of her curls, pulling up her head sharply. She resisted as best she could, but he only shook her, like one would treat a lifeless doll.

"If you say you care for Lolita – if you say you _love_ her, then why are you trying to get her killed?" he cried angrily in response. James frowned darkly.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, watching her weakened like this gives me more pleasure than you could imagine," he replied with a twisted smirk. "So. Make your decision – _now_, because I'm _deadly_ serious," he commanded.

"No. You have no reason to kill either of them – they're both innocent!" he cried angrily in response.

"Oh, I know. But you're going to have to go through the rest of your life, knowing that it's _your_ fault that either your wife or sister are dead, _you_'ll have to live with the guilt," he informed him coolly, letting go of Loli's hair.

"Whit, don't you _dare_ – he's buffing," she said weakly, but her tone lacked no sincerity.

Whit looked from his wife, to his terrified little sister.

"Oh no, this is no bluff," James snapped. "You choose, you sign, and then we talk. Then I shoot," he promised.

"No. I'm _not_ choosing between my sister and my wife!" he cried angrily. "I'll sign! I'll sign if _no one_ is hurt!" he swore.

"We're too far past that now," James chuckled. "Personally, I'd save Little Loli. Gigi is sweet and everything, but I know who _I _prefer," he threw in.

"W – Whit, it's o – okay," Gigi assured him softly.

"No, it's not," he replied, biting his lip as he gazed over at his sister, sadness marring his face. "G – Gigi – I can't do this," he stammered.

"Don't worry, Whit," she said calmly.

"Make your decision, _now_," James snapped.

"Whit, just save Gigi, damn you! I'll be fine, he won't shoot me, and if he does, you would have made the right decision!" Loli urged him. "Callum _needs_ his mother, and you practically _raised_ Gigi," she continued.

"_Decide_!" James cried loudly.

"No matter what you pick, he's going to win! Why make Callum motherless to save me?" Loli questioned. "Jamie! He picks me!" she snapped angrily.

"_No_!" Whit cried. "Anything you want, James, just _don't_ –"

"No more turning back now Whit, I'm growing impatient. Make your choice," he snapped.

"Whit, this is my fault," Loli cried softly. "I was trying to leave Paris – _I _caused this, just _pick me_, if it's between Gigi and I then _I_'m the one that should have to suffer!" she tried to persuade him. "If you pick Gigi then it'll ruin three people's lives – Callum won't have a mother, _you_ won't have a sister, and I'll lose a friend," she continued.

"Don't you even care about your life?" Whit questioned her incredulously. She swallowed rather obviously.

"It's not my life that I'm worried about," she muttered, her eyes starting to water, and grow dark. "I don't _want_ this. I feel like a murderer already, but this is what _has_ to happen," she instructed firmly. Whit held her gaze.

She was terrified. But there was something else in her expression, it was as if she felt guilty for trying to convince him to have her shot…

He knew very well that she didn't want to be killed, but what person wanted to live with the guilt of causing another person's death?

"I – if I choose, and then sign, what happens next?" he questioned James. He shrugged.

"I'll shoot one of them," he said simply. "Oh – and if you don't decide, I'll kill them both. And I'm not joking," he added, his tone very, very serious.

Whit looked from his sister to his wife slowly. He choked back a sob.

"Gigi," he said softly, meeting her eyes. Loli breathed a sigh of relief. "I – I'm so sorry, a – and I'm sorry f – for Callum, too, b – but I _need_ her," he managed to get out. He felt his eyes sting, and blinked away any sign of emotion.

"I understand," she replied, smiling weakly, tears slipping from her pale eyes, and down her cheeks.

"You prick! You bastard!" Loli cried angrily. "She's your _sister_! How could you do that? She has a _baby_, how could you –" her words died in her throat. "D – don't you _dare_!" she ordered, wiping away her own tears.

"Lolita, _please_! Do you think this is easy?" he questioned her angrily, choking back a sob as he tore his eyes away from his darling, baby sister. "I told you once before – if it were between _you_ and the rest of the world, I would _always_ pick you!" he reminded her with irritation.

"Right then, sign away," James declared happily, sliding a form and a pen before Whit.

"I hate you," he spat, shaking in his anger. "I despise you like I've never despised another human being before," he informed him, with such loathing intensity that he surprised even himself. "Shoot _me_. Leave them," he demanded. James chuckled.

"Too late now, Whit my boy, _sign_," he replied.

Whit sent him a silent glare, and picked up the pen. He signed his name, his hand shaking, but steady enough for it to be legible. James snatched the form from his hands quickly, reading over it, his lips spreading to a grin.

"Ha! Oh the fun I'm going to have," he said gleefully.

"It makes more sense if you take _me_ as a hostage," Whit announced. "You'll be guaranteed a safe escape, and you were going to shoot me anyway," he tried to convince him. James met his eyes, and practically giggled.

"Oh no, this is going to be _much_ more fun," he replied, smirking. "You see, it didn't matter who you picked, I already knew who was going to… bite the bullet, as it were," he explained, almost gleefully. Whit's eyes narrowed. "So – I'm going to drive out of here in a few minutes with Gigi and Callum, in the sedan, I think, because I have a suspicion that you probably bugged all of your cars, just in case I took them," he announced. "I'll shoot Little Loli first, maybe sit around, watch you cry for a little while, and then I'll shoot _you_. If anyone stops the car, I'll kill Gigi. I'm not to be followed _at all_, is that clear?" he said loudly.

"You bastard. You _knew_ I was going to pick Lolita," Whit practically growled in response. "I thought you cared about her! I thought you said you loved her!" he cried angrily. James' smirk flickered, and his eyes flashed darkly.

"I had every intention of taking her with me, that is, until _you_ had to ruin things once again," he snapped coolly. "If the little bitch would rather die than love me, then I'll be perfectly happy to be of assistance, particularly if it causes _you_ pain," he added, glancing over to meet Whit's eyes.

"Please James – I'll give you anything you want," he begged, surprised at how weak and broken his voice sounded. "Everything. Every last cent I have, just _don't_ shoot her," he pleaded.

Whit tried to see where the boy he had met at Eton had gone. It wasn't in his eyes, it wasn't in the cold smirk he had plastered across his face, and it wasn't in the harsh voice.

The boy had gone. The man turned slowly towards Lolita, and raised his gun.

~ * ~

Loli looked down the barrel of the gun for the second time that evening. She swallowed. She very much doubted that he was kidding.

_I'm sorry, baby, but it looks like we're in this together_, she thought, hoping that whatever higher power was up there wouldn't smite her because she had sacrificed not only _her_ life, but the life of her and Whit's child.

"Whit – I – I love you," she said softly, surprised by the feel of hot tears rolling down her face. "A – and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I tried to run, I'm sorry I got caught, and I'm sorry that I was so selfish," she continued shakily.

"I – I love you too, Lolita," he replied. "A – and I'm sorry too. I love you _so_ much," he continued, wiping his eyes with his good hand.

"Gigi, t – tell my Dad that I love him, a – and that I'm sorry he thinks I failed him, I didn't mean to," she added softly, looking over to her 'sister', who was crying quite profusely.

"Enough of the _tears_, for God's sake!" James snapped, raising his gun once again.

"James, don't do this. It's only going to end badly," she tried to urge him. His eyes flashed darkly.

"Any famous last words?" he questioned coolly, cocking the gun, his hand starting to shake. He actually looked nervous.

"Yeah. Gigi – you're an amazing girl. Whit – I love you. And James, go to hell," she spat.

James' face twisted into an expression of cold distaste, and with his trembling fingers, he pulled on the trigger.

Loli had kind of expected it to hurt more. At first, it was a huge shock, like she had been electrocuted, struck by lightning, or someone had crept up behind her and yelled 'boo' very loudly. She _knew_ she had been shot, and she felt a very hot, stinging sensation where the bullet had hit, even though she couldn't really tell where it was on her body, and she felt herself slide down to the floor, but she couldn't really say that it _hurt_, not in a sense that she understood. She kind of felt… numb. Everything was moving very slowly.

She wondered where she had been hit. She hoped that she was going to survive, and she hoped that the bullet hadn't gone anywhere near her stomach, because she knew, rather than felt, that Whit would be terribly upset if the baby died.

_Whit_, she thought. Her mind was moving slowly. _He's around here somewhere, I think. Is he okay? He doesn't know about the baby_…

She was vaguely conscious that she was bleeding. She tried to focus her eyes on something; she could see something red… blood, perhaps? She could see blurred shapes moving around her, and she tried to speak, but nothing could really come out. She tried to move, but she didn't really know if she was.

She wondered if she was dead.

She hoped not.

~ * ~

Whit cried out as James pulled the trigger, but it made no difference, the gun fired all the same. He couldn't speak, or move, or say anything, just watching from his position on the floor.

As the bullet hit, her eyes widened in surprise, and her mouth fell slightly. She started to slide down from her sitting position to the floor, seemingly in slow motion, a dark crimson stain immediately starting to form at a point a few inches down from her clavicle. It looked like it hadn't gone anywhere near her heart or spinal chord, and she was moving slightly, but she made no sound.

He vaguely recognised that he was calling her name out over and over again, in desperation, or in fury, some sort of emotion. Her body looked lifeless and pale, and more and more blood just kept on pouring out, like a waterfall. She twitched slightly, and he could see her eyes moving, but they were glazed over and unfocused.

He could hear Gigi crying out something, and Callum wailing at the top of his lungs, but he barely noticed it at all. He tried to pull himself up, practically dragging himself towards her. James made no effort to stop him. He was staring at Lolita with an unreadable expression. Guilt, perhaps? Sadness? Whit didn't care – he had to get to her.

He ignored the pain in his leg and hand as he almost fell to her side, crouched over her form.

Her eyes centred on him, and her lips frowned slightly. He felt tears roll down his cheeks as he pushed back her curls from her bruised, but still beautiful face.

"Hey," he croaked out softly, practically trembling.

Because she couldn't die. She just _couldn't_ leave him. He refused to let her go.

"Mmph…" she managed to murmur in response, her breathing becoming strained.

"You're fine, love, just fine," he assured her, pressing a soft kiss against her red lips. She kissed him back, but only barely. He pulled away slowly, determined to focus on her wound. She shifted slightly, her blood still pouring out far too quickly. He slid a hand under her back shoulder blade, there was another injury on the other side, and something lodged into the floor. The bullet had torn right through her body.

He reached over her to grasp at a little red box on the end table, pulling open the First Aid Kit like it would change everything. He stared at the assortment of strange things incredulously – wondering what to do. He pulled out everything he thought he could use, immediately grasping two large squares of a strange, thick material, positioning one beneath her and the other atop the wound, and pressing down hard.

She gasped loudly in the sudden pressure, he was now doubt aggravating her shoulder injury to no limits, but he just _had_ to stop the bleeding.

"I swear to God James – I'm going to kill you," Whit spat vehemently, glancing over his shoulder for a moment. His enemy looked pale and drawn. He hoped that he regretted what he had done, but was there any room for regret in his cold, shattered, pathetic excuse for a heart?

His leg was searing in pain, but he ignored it. He laughter, her smile, her sparkling eyes; they were all ringing around his head like a haunting lullaby. He wished that he could do what she did for him, soothing him with her voice, but he didn't know any lyrics, he barely listened to music, unless it was _her_, walking through the house in her pyjamas at three in the afternoon, singing whatever song she heard on the radio to herself softly. He started to hum the song that her music box played; instead, hoping it would ease her.

"Is she okay?" Gigi questioned softly from her corner, easing Callum back into silence.

"Uh – she – she's lost a lot of blood," he croaked out as a response. He honestly _didn't_ know if she was okay.

"Get out. Both of you, just get out of here," he heard James snap to his hired men. They looked at him doubtfully. He was trembling. "Just get out!" he cried loudly. They glanced to each other in silence, but swiftly departed the house.

"You've only got one bullet left, James," Whit spat, pulling a pair of scissors out of the medical kit, cutting the sleave of her dress so he could get proper access to the injury. He wound one arm around her waist, pulling her up, her uninjured arm winding around his neck. He started to wind the bandaged around her shoulder and chest tightly. It was still bleeding _so_ much… "Do us a favour, and use it on yourself," he advised coolly.

"S – she's not meant to bleed that much," he heard him mutter quietly. "N – no one should bleed that much," he continued.

"She's got a fucking blood disorder!" Whit practically roared, glancing over his shoulder. "Her blood can't clot properly! This could kill her!" he cried furiously.

"I've never shot a woman before," he said, after a long pause. "I didn't want to kill her. I care about her, you know," he added.

"You've torn my family apart! Don't you _dare _feed me any of your crap, James, because I _hate_ you for what you've done!" he cried, still binding her injury as tightly as he could. Her skin was very warm. Too warm.

"Help her, if you can. Is it too late?" he questioned carefully.

"I hope not. Maybe," Whit replied, after a long pause. He pulled her up to his chest, and slowly rose up, putting most of his weight on his good leg, before lowering her onto the chaise carefully. The bandage was already staining red. He reached for more in silence.

"Try. B – but I still have to kill you," he responded. Whit nodded grimly, and wrapped another layer of gauze over her shoulder.

"J – James, y – you're a horrible h – human being," Gigi sniffed quietly, glaring up at her captor. He glanced over at her, his eyes lingering on Callum.

"What's he like?" he questioned suddenly. Gigi held him close to her chest warily, angrily eying the father of her baby.

"He doesn't cry that much. He's very sweet. He loves Whit and Loli," she replied coldly. James nodded slowly.

"I always ­–" he began, before he closed his mouth. "Whit. It's time," he said suddenly.

Whit finished bandaging Loli's shoulder, and pushed her hair from her face. Her skin was still too hot, but her breathing wasn't too strained. Her eyes were shut, and it looked like she was sleeping. He passed his lips over hers very lightly, before pulling away.

"I love you," he whispered to her softly, but she made no movement. "And I'm sorry that I – that I'm bossy and over controlling and that I don't talk that much. But you changed me, a lot, and I love you for that," he added quietly, tracing her jaw with his fingertips. He leant back towards her, and pressed the tiniest of kisses to her cheek, before shifting his lips over to her ear. "We needed more time," he murmured softly. He kissed her once more, before he pulled away.

He was unsteady to his feet, but he was determined to die standing up, not crouched on the floor. He met James' eyes firmly, his good hand on the side of the chaise to support himself.

"I didn't really… _want_ to kill you," James muttered, staring at the gun.

"Then don't," Whit replied rationally. "She could die. And if she dies, then so do I. And you won't have to pull another trigger," he said, gesturing over to his silent, unmoving wife. James glanced at her wistfully for a moment, before turning to the gun.

He pressed his thumb against the cylinder, before spinning it quickly, and waiting for it to stop.

"Great. Russian Roulette? Is this because I'm half-Russian, or just for the hell of it?" Whit questioned coolly. James held the gun up, and pointed it at Whit's chest.

"I'm only going to shoot once. If you die, you die. If you don't, you don't. But I'm still leaving, and I'm still getting the inheritance," he stated. Whit glanced at the gun, and nodded.

"Gigi, look after Callum. I love you both," he said quietly to his sister, who was crying too much to say anything understandable. "And if Loli is alright… tell her –" he began, glancing back at her on the couch. "She knows," he muttered finally, raising his head, and meeting James in the eye. "Shoot," he said simply.

James nodded, and cocked the gun. He took a deep breath, and pulled on the trigger. Whit closed his eyes as he heard the bang.

He felt nothing.

James gave a loud, anguished cry.

He opened his eyes.

James lay on the floor, covered in his own blood.

"Gigi, don't look!" Whit cried suddenly, when he realised just what had happened.

The gun had exploded in his hand. Or rather, what _used_ to be his hand. Now it was a bleeding, severed stump, and his bones had acted as shrapnel, flying into his face, lodging themselves into his neck, his jaw, his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead, it was disgusting, it was grotesque, flesh torn beyond any recognition, blood pooling everywhere as he _screamed_ and howled and wailed in pain.

Gigi looked like she wanted to vomit. Loli still hadn't moved. He grabbed the first aid kit and moved towards James with haste, just as he heard the sound of the door being kicked in.

He had called for assistance, obviously, when James got off the phone. But he knew that if James, or any of his hired hands, could see the slightest hint of security, they would show no mercy. So he instructed the team of fifteen heavily armed and armoured police officers not to approach the house until they heard three gunshots – because James only _had_ three shots. It was all he could do to keep his family protected without endangering them.

Before he could offer James any assistance, he was pulled back by a black clad man wearing full headgear, holding a bullet-proof shield and the largest gun Whit had ever seen. He dropped the first aid kit, and stumbled, but he was pulled back up again. He was practically carried out of his own home.

"Hey! My girls are still in there!" he snapped roughly to the man pulling him.

"Are you injured, Mister Darcy?" the man questioned.

"My leg – but Lolita is worse, get her out of there!" he cried immediately. He looked around. His driveway was covered with SWAT vans, police cars, ambulances, and the unmarked vehicles belonging to his own body guards and security. All of James' assistants had been handcuffed and put into police cars, he hadn't heard a struggle, but they didn't look too pleased.

"They need to get the paramedics in there to get your wife out, Mister Darcy," the man replied calmly, still holding him up. Whit tried to pull away, but winced sharply in pain. He had almost forgotten his injuries – his leg was still killing him, but the pain in his hand had lessened.

He tried desperately to see past the sea of people, police, the SWAT team, paramedics, even _Media_ as they swarmed around the entrance to his home, there seemed to be a large fight on his lawn between one of James' thugs and four police officers, but he noticed none of it.

Where was Lolita?

**A/N: Sigh, I can't wait to write a nice, short, angst-less story after this… Yeah, so just to ease your worries, Lolita doesn't die. I had a few extra paragraphs in here originally concerning James' injuries, but I didn't want to elaborate on it, gore isn't really my thing. I based Loli's experience on being shot on that of George Orwell, I think it was, when he was describing being shot in the neck. I've never been shot, let me just say. The closest I can boast is watching someone shoot a carpet python in their backyard a few years ago. Or rather, trying to **_**stop**_** the person from shooting the snake, but they blew it up anyway… poor little snakie… Oh, and pieces of bone acting as shrapnel wasn't a concept that I made up, it's been known to happen in close combat. Yucky business. So, review please! It makes me so happy :D We've only got a little more to go before this story is finished, so don't give up now!**


	49. When it's all over

**A/N: **_**So**_** sorry that I didn't update last night, I was enjoying Thursday late night shopping, trying to get a dress for High Tea. Do you know how painful and annoying High Tea is? Has anyone else gone through that almost **_**excruciating**_** experience before? Well, I have to do it every year – only **_**this**_** time, I'm wearing Lolita. *grins broadly* I haven't decided between Sweet or Shiro, but I'm leaning further towards Shiro at the moment, even though I don't have a Kuro to go with me… hmmm… this makes me sad…. Yes, but to the story now!!!**

"Where _is_ she?" Whit questioned Richard angrily.

"I'm sure she's fine, they're probably just trying to be careful about moving her," he replied, his tone holding no humour or playfulness.

"I need to see her!" he insisted, trying to sit up, but the severe looking paramedic angrily pushed him back onto the stretcher in the ambulance.

"Whit! Whit!"

"Gigi! Are you okay?" Richard questioned quickly, as his cousin rushed towards the ambulance, her face pale, tears streaming from her eyes. Richard quickly pulled her into a tight hug, Callum gurgling happily as if nothing out of the normal had occurred.

"I – I was so scared!" she wept into Richard's chest.

"Gigi, I wouldn't have let him hurt you," Whit croaked out softly. "I would have thrown myself in front of the gun, I knew he wasn't going to shoot you," he explained. Gigi raised her head from Richard's chest.

"It's okay. I knew that you would keep me and Callum safe," she replied, smiling warmly, her eyes sparkling with tears and relief.

"And whilst L – Lolita is _very_ important to me –" he tried to begin, shifting uncomfortably as the paramedic inspected his leg.

"Whit. For a long time, I was the most important thing in your life, and now I'm not. That's how it's meant to be," she replied, surprisingly calm for someone who was just in a life and death situation.

"I'm sorry that you got dragged into this," he said softly. She nodded, her tears still falling freely.

"You had no other options. But I – I think I'm going to need to talk to someone, a counsellor, maybe," she muttered in response. "H – His hand was there one moment, and then it – " she stammered, her voice growing choked, before Richard pulled her back in for another tight hug.

"Cuz, let's just… deal with this later," he suggested. Gigi nodded.

"We have to get to the hospital. Are you coming with us?" the paramedic questioned Richard and Gigi.

"No – Lolita!" Whit objected sharply.

"We need to go _now_, Mister Darcy," the paramedic argued firmly.

"We're coming," Richard said decidedly, pulling his cousin and her son into the ambulance. Whit lay back, and stared at the ceiling, trying to control his breathing. He had been in a panic the whole time they were in that room.

Gigi cried as she told Richard what had happened, whilst the paramedic was undoing the bandages on Whit's leg to survey the damage. Richard listened, clearly enraged with the information of what James had done, but he said very little, simply comforting her.

"I'm going to give you a local anaesthetic, you've got a few pieces of shrapnel in here," the paramedic informed Whit. "It'll numb the area, but you'll still be conscious. Then I'll need to clean the wound, before you get stitches in it, okay?" he continued, pulling out a needle. Whit nodded, and lay back again.

He couldn't think. He was just… numb. Numb from everything. He just stared at the roof of the ambulance, and started to count backwards from a hundred in German for no reason at all. He didn't _want_ to think. Not until he knew that Lolita was safe. He didn't want to think about _anything_, especially not what had happened.

After all, even though he hated and despised James, he had known him for a long time. His hand exploded, and his face was probably going to be disfigured forever. That was a cruel fate to suffer. So he didn't want to think about it, because thinking about it would make him realise just what _had_ happened – just what James had done to Lolita.

They got to the hospital with surprising speed. He said nothing as he was taken into a small clinical room where a nurse stitched up his leg, watching Gigi continue to relay the evening to Richard. Her tears had now subsided, but she was still distressed. Richard decided quite firmly that she needed some rest, and sent her back to his penthouse for the night.

"Bye, Whit, I love you," she said warmly to her brother, after finally agreeing to go.

"I love you too. You were very brave," he replied softly, hugging her tightly. She gave him a small smile, before she kissed her cheek, and slipped out of the room.

"She'll be fine, I think," Richard announced. Whit nodded. "And Lolita will be too. She's a fighter," he added. Whit gave another nod.

"I put them both in danger tonight," he said suddenly. Richard glanced at him, and frowned slightly.

"You did what you could, Whit," he replied.

"Lolita was _shot_. My wife was shot because of _me_," he said roughly. "And I don't even know if she's alive anymore. I – _God_, this is just too much," he muttered tiredly.

"I'm sure we can go and find out as soon as she's finished with your leg," Richard rationalised, gesturing to the nurse, who was still stitching up the bullet-wound. "Say hun, how much longer are you going to be?" he questioned politely. The nurse glanced up at him and scowled.

"He's been shot. Don't rush me," she snapped. "I need about ten more minutes for his leg – and then he needs to get his hand X-rayed, and if it's broken, he needs a –"

"I _need_ to find my wife!" Whit cried angrily. "She could be _dead_. I need to know!" he snapped.

"I can't make this go any faster, Mister Darcy," the woman replied curtly, before returning to his leg. Richard rolled his eyes.

"I'll get you some coffee, and see if I can find anything out about Loli," he offered. Whit glanced at him, and then nodded in agreement, before sitting back on the padded bench, and closing his eyes.

It seemed like an eternity for his leg to be properly stitched up and bandaged, and another few centuries for his hand to be X-rayed. Richard returned with coffee just as he was having it bound up, and by this stage, Whit was more than impatient to hear news of his wife.

"I couldn't find anything out – apparently I'm not 'family' enough," he explained, handing Whit a Styrofoam cup filled with coffee. "I told them that I was her Dad and everything, but for some reason they just didn't believe me," he muttered teasingly. Whit rolled his eyes.

"Thanks for trying," he replied, sipping the vile concoction that was hospital coffee. But he didn't really care, it was something to do.

"Listen, I know we never really sorted out what happened with me and Loli in London that day," Richard said suddenly. Whit glanced at him with narrowed eyes.

"Can you understand that why I didn't trust you?" he questioned coolly. "Why past occurrences made me reluctant to give you the responsibility of looking after her? And even though I gave you the chance, you still _abused_ that responsibility?" he asked.

"I was drunk, Whit," he tried to argue, ignoring the curious glances of the nurse as she bound up Whit's hand.

"That doesn't matter. You still said it," he snapped angrily.

"Okay, fine, I said it," Richard confessed. "That doesn't mean that I meant it!" he tried to argue.

"You always mean what you say when you're pissed, Richard!" he snapped sharply in response.

"You two weren't together," he tried to rationalise desperately.

"You _knew_ how I felt about her," Whit responded with irritation.

"Okay, _fine_. I screwed up. I fell for _your_ girl," Richard admitted exasperatedly. "But that doesn't mean that I'd make a pass at her! That doesn't mean that I'd sacrifice her safety! She's like a sister to me, I would _never _let her get hurt!" he stressed firmly. "It was a brief infatuation – and now it's passed. I _swear_," he promised.

"How the hell am I supposed to believe you?" he retorted with frustration.

"Because… I sort of… I think I've got a thing for Chandra," he explained awkwardly. Whit raised his eyebrows.

"You're room mates," he stated simply.

"Not anymore. She moved out last week, got a new apartment, it was only a temporary solution anyway," he explained. "But… you know, she's cute, in a twisted sort of way, and when she left, I realised how much I'd liked living with her," he continued. "I think we could be very happy together," he assured his cousin firmly.

"For the sake of my sanity I really do hope so, because sometimes I think Lolita likes _you_ more than _me_," he snapped, but the anger in his tone had lessened. Richard smirked.

"That's what they all say," he retorted, crossing the room, and sitting on the edge of the bench beside his cousin. "She's an amazing girl. I was bound to fall for her Whit, just like you were, and just like James was. But she married _you_," he sighed. "And I'm really happy that you found someone like her, don't doubt that. I'm sure she's fine, and I'm sure you two are going to be really happy," he added. A tiny smile flickered over Whit's face for a moment.

"It's finally over," he sighed. "We can _finally_ just… work on our marriage. We can have a proper wedding ceremony, we can have a honeymoon, we can make decisions together and talk about things like a couple, we can be together," he said softly, wistfully. "That is, if she's still alive," he muttered.

"Your hand will only be one more minute, Mister Darcy," the nurse informed him. "And you shouldn't feel anything in that leg for a few hours, you'll be able to walk with crutches, but try not to take it too quickly," she advised. Whit nodded.

"How long before he can walk normally?" Richard questioned curiously.

"Well, the bullet tore through a lot of muscle, that's why it caused you so much pain," she explained. "It'll take several months for the wound to fully heal, and even then, you may get some stiffness every now and then for years. Hopefully you'll be able to walk perfectly normally in about six months, but you may have a slight limp for the rest of your life, I'm afraid," she continued.

"That's fine – I don't care," Whit muttered hastily. "I need to find my wife, are you finished?" he questioned.

"I think that should be enough," she said, glancing at his hand.

"Thanks," he muttered quickly, sliding off the bench. Richard supported him when he stumbled with the weight on his leg, and the nurse handed him a set of crutches with haste.

"Careful there, cuz," Richard advised warily, as Whit immediately started to try and leave the room.

"I'm fine," he muttered, attempting to regain his balance as he swayed.

"Slowly. Come on, let's try and find Loli," Richard replied, placing a steadying hand on Whit's shoulder. It took him a moment to get used to the crutches, but very quickly he was trying to tear through the hallways in search of the nurses station. "Slow down, or you'll kill yourself!" Richard exclaimed, impressed by his cousin's speed. People stared at the two of them – Whit's trousers cut open on the side of his leg, revealing his bandaged wound, his shirt covered in blood, rushing as quickly as he could through the halls.

"Hurry up," he snapped, spying the station in front of them. He moved quickly up to the front desk, his breathing becoming strained as he kept on trying to push himself further and further. "I'm Lolita Darcy's husband – I need to know where she is. Is she okay?" he said quickly. The nurse glanced up at him in surprise, and frowned slightly, before turning to her computer.

"Uh… she – she should have gotten out of surgery by now, it was a simple shrapnel retrieval operation," she replied slowly, reading off the screen with her squinting brown eyes.

"Where is she?" he questioned.

"Take the lift to the third floor, she's in room 315," she informed him. "Umm – are you okay?" she questioned, taking in his rather unusual appearance.

"Yeah, fine," he replied shortly, before turning right back around.

"Determined son of a bitch, aren't you," Richard commented teasingly, following his cousin to the elevator.

"You've known me for almost thirty-three years. If you haven't worked out that I'm determined by now, then you've failed at life," he replied, poking the button to open the elevator doors with the end of his crutch impatiently.

"Darce, she's _alive_, she's going to be fine," Richard assured him patiently. "You're going to tear your stitches at this rate," he added. "Just calm down, okay? Cool it, don't make yourself worse," he advised in a stern, big-brother tone.

Whit turned around sharply.

"When _you_'ve had to spend the most terrifying couple of hours of your life watching the people that mean the most to you threatened by a gun-wielding maniac, when you've been _shot_, beaten and degraded by a man you've known for years, when you've watched the woman that you would give _everything_ for scream in pain and pour out blood by the pint, _then_ you can tell me to cool it!" he cried furiously. "I spent _six weeks_ separated from her – and then our reunion involves her having emergency surgery and lying in a hospital bed! So I'm not going to 'cool it' until she's safe and home with me, where we can forget this entire ordeal!" he snapped angrily.

Richard glanced around, people were staring at them curiously.

"I – I'm sorry. Come on. Let's just go see your wife," he muttered, as the elevator doors opened, and people started to stream out. Whit shuffled in quickly, and practically smashed the button for the third floor.

The moment that the doors opened again, he was out, moving as quickly as he could through the waiting room to try and find room 315. He looked around quickly; he had no idea where to start.

"Whit, this way," Richard called, pointing towards a hallway. Whit tore through the waiting room on his crutches, searching for the right room. He was so distracted that he almost knocked over a doctor stepping out from behind one of the doors.

"Sorry," he muttered quickly, glancing over his shoulder. He had just come out of 315.

"Ah – are you Mister Darcy?" the doctor questioned.

"Are you my wi – Lolita's doctor?" he asked quickly in response.

"Yes, I'm Dr. Shautz," the man introduced himself, smiling pleasantly.

"How is she?" Richard questioned with concern.

"Is the okay? How did the surgery go? Is she awake?" Whit asked quickly.

"The surgery went very well, we were able to retrieve all of the shrapnel quite easily," he answered. "And they're both doing very well, your wife has lost a lot of blood, but we think after a few days she'll be feeling much better," he continued, giving them both a warm smile for comfort.

"Both?" Whit repeated, frowning. "What do you mean?" he questioned.

"The baby, of course," Dr. Shautz replied, confused at Whit's reaction.

"Lolita's preggers and you didn't _tell me_?" Richard exclaimed in surprise, turning to Whit. "Con_grats_ cuz, very impressive," he praised, clapping him on the shoulder warmly.

"Sh – she's pregnant? As in – _having a baby_ pregnant?" he questioned incredulously, ignoring his cousin's comments.

"A bit over six weeks. Did I ruin the surprise?" the doctor replied, his eyes widening. "Sorry about that, I just assumed that… well, perhaps she wasn't aware herself, are you using any form of contraception?" he questioned.

"Uh – L – Loli was told she – couldn't have children without treatment for her blood disorder," he replied slowly, his mind reeling. "A – and we saw a doctor about two months ago, he told us the same thing," he added.

"Aw, you can call it 'Miracle Darcy'," Richard gushed excitedly. "And I'll get one too, and we can race them against Callum!" he cried with delight.

"Lolita was seeing a doctor in France. She would have known," Whit managed to state.

"I'm sure she had her own reasons for putting off telling you, Mister Darcy," the doctor assured him. "She's still out now, but you're welcome to sit with her, she should be waking up in about an hour, but she'll be tired. She needs to stay here for a few days, before you need to look into platelet-transfusion treatment for the remainder of the pregnancy, and she'll need plenty of rest. She has a concussion and several bumps and bruises, in addition to the bullet wound, and a fractured clavicle and dislocated shoulder, so she'll be a bit sore," he informed him. "Oh, and congratulations, I'm sure you'll make an excellent father," he added with a reassuring smile, before he headed down the hall to the nurses station.

"Good news then!" Richard declared cheerfully.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Whit muttered.

"What? Ew – uh – there's a bathroom there," he replied, pointing at the door opposite them.

Whit pushed past his cousin and went straight for the sink, sliding against the wall as he threw up the contents of his stomach, his crutches clattering to the ground as he clung onto the bowl of the sink.

"I thought you wanted kids," Richard muttered, pulling his cousin's lengthening hair from his face, and turning on the tap.

"T – That bastard did all of that to her," he managed to choke out. "He was going to kill her. He _shot_ her. H – he was going to kill my wife _and_ my baby," he spluttered, before retching once again into the sink.

"Oh… yeah, that would put a bit of a damper on the news," Richard muttered thoughtfully.

"He beat her up. He fractured her clavicle, he hit her head, he dislocated her shoulder, he _shot_ her – a – and the whole time she was –" he stammered. His stomach gave a huge lurch as he recalled what had happened to her over the course of the evening, what she had gone through, and now he knew that there was a _child_ involved. A baby. A little life that they had created together, and it had come _so_ close to being killed. _She_ had come so close to being killed. "A – and she still wanted James to shoot her, instead of Gigi," he practically wept.

"Whit, you can't turn that against her," Richard replied after a pause. "She knew that she had to make a sacrifice. And if James knew she was pregnant, she _would_ be dead. She couldn't exactly use it as an argument," he added.

"I – I've known him since we were kids," he spluttered out. "And he nearly killed Loli – he nearly killed my _baby_, just because of _money_," he choked.

"He's a bad person. But your wife and your baby are both going to be fine," Richard assured him quietly, patting his shoulder.

It took him a few minutes to recompose himself, before he was able to stumble out of the bathroom. He stared at the door to Loli's room.

"Come on. She'd want you to be there for her," Richard assured him. "She _needs_ you, Whit, put aside your own anxiety and just _go in_," he urged him.

Whit took a deep breath, and moved forwards on his crutches. With his good hand, he reached out, and turned the doorknob, before stepping into the room.

The room was small, and had only one bed in it, and a few couches and chairs for people to sit on. She was unconscious, covered in tubes, bandages and blankets, her long hair flowing over one shoulder, plasters covering wounds on her head. She looked so small and fragile, an ill-fitting pink hospital gown folded down to leave her shoulder and chest region exposed, all of which was covered with bandages, but didn't hide the horrible red and purple bruises across her shoulder, neck and arms.

"Oh God," Whit whispered quietly, taking in her appearance, taking in the tubes and the IVs and the bottles of blood pouring into her, half-wishing that he hadn't walked into the room at all, because the site was almost too much to bear.

"Come on. She'll be fine," Richard croaked out from behind him, urging him towards the seat that had been pulled up to the bed for use of family members. Whit practically fell into it, unable to take his eyes off her face, her pale, bruised, beautiful face. He reached up on the bed to take her little hand into his, rubbing his thumb smoothly over her palm. He wanted it to move. He wanted it to move so desperately. "Listen, I'm going to give you some time alone with her, but I'll be back soon with coffee, okay?" Richard said.

Whit nodded.

"Thanks," he muttered, as Richard moved to the opposite side of the bed, and pressed a light kiss to her temple, before he left the room.

Whit sighed, as he looked over her entire, fragile appearance. His gaze lingered for a moment on her stomach.

He'd always wanted a family, but it was so _soon_. At first he couldn't wait to have children with the woman that he loved, but he had gotten so comfortable in their little lifestyle, just the two of them, that he didn't know if he could share her with anyone. They'd decided that they would start looking at the prospect of parenthood when she was twenty-five, in a good three years. She was still about three weeks away from her twenty-second birthday, she was so _young_.

A _baby_, he thought incredulously. He was going to be a father. He was going to have a child, a little girl or a little boy, a _life_ that they had created. He smiled softly at the thought.

But why hadn't she told him? Why couldn't she pick up the phone and just _say_, 'Whit, I'm pregnant'? Was she so angry at him that she didn't think he should have had a part in his child's life? Was that why she was about to leave when James found her? She was going to _leave_, she was going to just disappear, not telling anyone about the baby, did she have any intention of _ever_ telling him?

"Where's my daughter? Where _is_ she?" he heard a loud, booming voice with an Irish accent cry from the hall. He raised his head in surprise as the door burst open, and an almost white-haired man stormed into the room, green eyes flashing darkly.

"Whit, I'm sorry, they all just turned up," Richard explained, slipping into the room next, before he was followed by a gaggle of people. Joan, Chandra, Caleb, Mrs Bettenne and her three obnoxious children, one of whom had bright blue hair.

"Loli!" Joan cried, rushing to the bed. Chandra followed quickly, practically throwing themselves at her unconscious form, tears streaming from their eyes.

"Man, are you okay? Is she going to be alright?" Caleb questioned him, his eyes wide with concern as he took in Lolita's state.

"I – I'm fine, she's going to be okay," Whit murmured. Mrs Bettenne immediately started to screech about how awful the drive over had been, two of her daughters threw themselves on the couch and started flicking through the curtesy magazines, and the other girl stared at her half-sister in concern, but didn't get to close.

"I called Joan, and then they all turned up," Richard explained. Whit nodded, and unsteadily rose up from his chair, using his crutches for support.

"What the _hell_ happened to my daughter?" the older man cried furiously, fixing his eyes on Whit's face.

"You're Lolita's father?" Whit questioned, anger rising up in his chest. "Well, it's good to hear that you _finally_ give a damn about your daughter, but you're about six months too late," he snapped coldly.

"And who the hell are you?" he asked, stepping forwards, his gaze filled with anger.

"Fitzwhitlam Darcy – your daughter's husband," he replied coolly. The man's eyes widened, and his mouth fell.

"Her _husband_?" he repeated incredulously. "You've got a lot of nerve – if you're the Darcy that I'm pretty sure you are, I know for a _fact_ that my daughter hates you – so you had better get out of here _now_," he spat.

"I think it's _you_ that needs to leave," Whit countered, rising up to his full height, ignoring the pain in his leg. "Because she hasn't heard a word from you for _months_, you _abandoned_ her, and she's been through hell tonight – she doesn't need her pathetic excuse for a father screwing her life up again," he snapped, his anger rising with every word.

What kind of father just _abandoned_ their child? He'd only known that he was going to be a father for less than an hour, but he already couldn't imagine ever leaving his son or daughter's side.

"She's my _daughter_!" he objected sharply.

"Then why don't you act like her father?" Whit snapped, with more anger than he had expected. "When you left, _I _had to pick up the pieces! Even before we were together I was there for her when _you_ walked out on her!" he continued.

"Moonbeam is a nomad too. She understands that I need to travel," he defended himself coolly. "She understands and _respects_ that, and if you're putting horrible ideas in her head about what kind of father I am, then I'm afraid I'm going to have to beat the shit out of you, crippled or not," he threatened. "In fact – I'm going to beat the shit out of you anyway, because the way I see it, _you're_ responsible for this happening to my little girl!" he cried.

"I did everything I could to stop this from happening, but some things are out of my control," Whit snapped.

"She can come and live with me again – I'm not having her shackled to a spoilt little rich brat like you!" he practically growled.

"You know what? _Lolita_ is the one that makes that decision," Whit replied coolly. "We're married – and you're going to have to accept that. I don't need to defend myself to you," he finished.

No one said a word, gazing at the two with baited breath, waiting for one of them to strike.

And then the silence was broken by a strained, but still very sincere laugh.

"Lolita!" Whit cried instantly, turning around to the bed and moving towards her with speed. Her bright blue eyes were opened, and her bruised lips were curved to a grin.

"You two idiots are practically identical," she chuckled out, her voice strained and tired.

"Oh Loli – I'm so glad you're okay!" Joan squealed, practically throwing herself on the bed, along with Chandra, who was crying, as Richard and Cale watched with concern and relief.

"Hmm… I'd be worried if you weren't," she muttered, shifting uncomfortably and wincing. "Hey handsome, come here often?" she croaked out to her husband, who was smiling down at her with relief. Had they been alone, he probably would have cried.

"Hopefully not," he replied softly, taking her hand in his warmly. He sat back in the chair by the bed, sighing as he took in her sparkling eyes.

"Were you terrified? Did it hurt, being shot? Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Chandra questioned quickly.

"Uh – chocolate fudge ripple ice cream, pyjamas, my bloke, and _Gilmore Girls_," she replied tiredly. "In that order," she added with a grin. Whit chuckled softly, as he brushed back a strand of her hair, but said nothing. She knew he wasn't big on public displays of affection. He raised her hand to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, before putting it back on the bed. She met his eyes with the largest smile she could manage.

"Mister Darcy, it's _so_ nice of you to be here for Loli," Mrs Bennette declared suddenly, bustling over to him like some sort of large feline on the prowl.

"Mum! You're doing the scary face," one of her daughters, the blue haired one, cried out suddenly.

"_Quiet_, Mya, I'm talking to someone," she snapped in response, before turning back to him, fluttering her eyelashes.

"More like undressing him with your eyes," Mya muttered under her breath. Her mother sent her a furious scowl, but she only rolled her eyes. "I'm going to get coffee. Who wants some?" she announced.

"Coffee. _Lots_ of coffee," Loli requested weakly, as Mya chuckled.

"I think tea would be better, or juice," Whit objected. "How about hot chocolate?" he suggested. Loli rolled her eyes, but still smiled. He reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet, and handed Mya a twenty pound note. "Find somewhere decent," he advised. She nodded.

"Aye-aye captain," she replied, counting the people in the room, before disappearing.

"How are you feeling, Moon?" her father questioned softly, stepping forwards with hesitation.

"Hello Dad," she sniffed, almost _coldly_, tilting her head so she could see who was standing before her.

"It's good that you still remember me," he smiled, but he looked slightly wary.

"I could say the same thing," she replied, her tone sounding rather hurt. Whit squeezed her hand supportively.

"Perhaps I should go help Mya," he sighed, after his daughter refused to look him in the eye.

"Perhaps that's for the best," she muttered coolly in response, easing back in the bed, and glancing over to her husband.

"You know, maybe we should give these two some time alone," Richard announced suddenly, Whit breathing a sigh of relief. Joan and Chandra both looked rather put-out, but obediently shuffled out of the room with Richard's coaxing. Lindsay and Kayte couldn't get out of there sooner, and Mrs Bennette had probably left before Richard even suggested it.

Loli sighed as they all left the room, letting her eyes flutter to a close as her exhausted body relaxed into the bed. She didn't want to think, she just wanted to sleep…

"The bullet went right through you, left a bit of shrapnel, but they took that out quite quickly," she heard Whit inform her, holding her hand tightly in his. "Your clavicle was fractured, and your shoulder was dislocated, but they said that wasn't that big an issue, I think," he continued.

"Good," she muttered, fighting back a yawn. "Hows your leg?" she questioned him.

"Hurts a bit. But it's fine, they stitched it up, a few bones in my hand were broken, but that won't take too long to heal," he replied slowly. "Gigi and Callum are a bit shaken up, but fine. I haven't heard any news of James, but he'll be arrested when he's seen a doctor, if he's still alive," he muttered. "Clarkson didn't tell him where you were. I don't know who did, but I know that he didn't," he added.

"Your Aunt," she replied, opening her eyes again. "She… came and visited me. Threw a paperweight at my head," she added, with a small smile. Whit's eyes widened.

"That explains the rather horrid phone call I received," he muttered in realisation, his eyes narrowing in anger. "I refuse to speak to her ever again. I – I can't believe she told James where you were!" he cried, growing very agitated.

"Shhh… Whit, please," Loli begged him softly. "I'm tired, hun. We back stick pins in a voodoo doll later," she assured him. He sighed, and settled back into the armchair.

"Your father doesn't like me, I suspect," he muttered. She gave a soft chuckle.

"Hmm, I gathered that much," she replied. "Hang on – he didn't know we were married," she mumbled suddenly, frowning slightly, before realisation hit her. "Oh, that _bitch_," she practically growled.

"Who?" Whit questioned in confusion.

"I called Fanny to see if she had heard where Dad was, she said he didn't want to speak to me, because I'd disappointed him by marrying a man he hadn't met," she explained slowly, before giving a bitter laugh. "Oh she's a _devious_ SOB," she muttered.

"I'm going to kill her," Whit decided rather rationally.

"There's a line. Wait your turn," Loli advised, shifting uncomfortably. "_Damn_ this thing bites. Remind me not to get shot again," she muttered.

"Do you need any blankets? More pillows?" Whit questioned in concern. She smiled softly, and shifted aside slightly, patting the space next to her. He needed no more encouragement, and unsteadily raised himself to lie beside her. He pulled her tightly into his arms, and she sighed in the comfort of the security and love that she had been missing so terribly over their six-week separation.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said softly, entwining their hands together, her head resting on his chest as he stroked lazy circles up her arm.

"The fact that you haven't asked me anything about it makes me think that you honestly have no idea," he murmured, after a little while of silence.

"Know about what?" she questioned, tilting her head so she could meet his eyes. She frowned, thinking of what he could mean. Her head was rather fuzzy, and if she was perfectly honest, she couldn't really remember very much. She knew that Lady Ekaterina had shouted at her, she knew that she threw a paperweight at her forehead, she vaguely recalled an airport, but she _knew_, rather than actually remembered, the events of that evening.

"The baby," he stated, watching her intently to seek out her reaction.

"Oh!" she muttered in realisation, pieces of her memory seeming to fit back in together again. "Is it okay?" she questioned him quickly.

"It's fine," he answered, still drawing circles up and down her arm. "So you knew," he stated.

"Yes," she confirmed, not knowing what else to say. What did he _want_ her to say?

"And yet you were planning on leaving Paris… leaving me," he continued, trying to disguise the hurt from his tone, but he was failing miserably. She sighed.

"I knew it would be a death sentence. I knew I wasn't ready. I knew that I had to clear my head for a little while," she answered slowly. "It might not help, but I was about to exchange my ticket to Tokyo to a ticket to London when James found me," she added. She felt him nod. "W – Whit, I only found out this morning – well, I guess it was yesterday morning," she informed him, tilting her head back up to see his face.

"You almost died. Our baby almost died," he muttered softly.

"I know. You almost died too, but we can't just spend the rest of our lives going over what happened," she responded. "Whit, we'll have to deal with this, but not right now," she practically whispered. She slid further up his chest, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you," he murmured into her mouth.

"I love you too," she reciprocated with a tiny smile. Her lips were bruised and cut, but kissing him was like washing away the memory of James completely. The hand that had been stroking her arm wrapped comfortably around her waist, and his other hand, entwined with hers, slowly moved over to rest on her stomach.

She softly pulled her lips away, staring intently at a little mark on the wall across from her. She slid her hand out of his, and away from her stomach. She knew he was watching her, but she didn't turn away or relax, she just wanted to blot out the whole past twenty-four hours, and that included finding out about the baby. She wouldn't go as far to say she wanted to get rid of the baby, but she didn't want to think about it. She wasn't _ready_ to think about it.

He softly pressed his lips to her forehead, and held her warmly to his chest, his hand still resting on her stomach.

"I was supposed to be twenty-five," she murmured into his chest. "I was supposed to be twenty-five, I was supposed to have been working full time at Darcy Designs for three and a half years, I was supposed to have proper treatment and go through all that therapy crap, I was supposed to be calm and reasonable," she continued. "I'm not _ready_. Mothers are wise and patient and all that – mothers don't wear Sweet Lolita and live off strawberry milkshakes, I can't _do_ this," she whispered, feeling her eyes sting with hot tears.

"Love, you don't _have_ to be all of those things," he responded quietly, stroking soft, small circles on the small of her back. "You don't have to be calm, reasonable, wise or patient, you can still wear Sweet Lolita and live off strawberry milkshakes, and it won't make you any less of a mother," he assured her.

"_Mother_," she repeated slowly, taking great attention to the way it rolled off her tongue, as if she were trying it on in a store to see if it fit. "I – it's just – this wasn't the way we planned it," she explained softly.

"I know. And whilst this might not be the best time or circumstances, we still have plenty of time to get used to it," he replied.

"But we were going to go to Sicily when this was all over, just like the song! And it was going to be wonderful!" she cried softly. He chuckled.

"We'll still go to Sicily; we'll leave as soon as you've have your first round of treatment, and then we'll come back and spend Christmas in Pemberley," he offered.

"I'm going to get fat," she mumbled unhappily. "I've _never_ been fat before. I've always been tiny, I _like_ being tiny, except for the height thing, I don't want to have to wear those stretchy jeans!" she continued. Whit chuckled.

"You won't be fat, you'll be pregnant, there's a difference," he informed her. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah _right_, do you know how hard it's going to be to find maternal Sweet Lolita?" she questioned with annoyance. "I don't know the first _thing_ about being preggers, other than you're fat, and like weird food. My Mum was _crazy_ about apples for some reason," she bemoaned.

"Yes. Because apples _are_ incredibly weird," he replied teasingly. She couldn't hide the small grin rising in her lips, so instead swatted him on the arm. "I've already been through all of this pregnancy stuff with Gigi, so whilst _you_ don't know the first thing about it, I can list every single multi-vitamin you're supposed to be taking, I know the dietary requirements like the back of my hand, I know how to avoid serious injury from a heavily pregnant, and very moody woman, and what's more, I was in the delivery room with Gigi when she gave birth," he informed her.

She groaned, and pulling the blankets up over her head.

"Making a tent?" he questioned teasingly, sliding down, and disappearing under the blankets with her.

"I refuse to give birth. This _thing_ can find another way out of me," she muttered firmly.

"Well it's got to come out some way," he reminded her patiently.

"No. It can stay in there. It can stay in there till I'm twenty-five and I'm _ready_ to go through all of this crap," she objected.

"Loli," he sighed, bringing her closely to his chest, and softly kissing her forehead. "It's okay. You can be scared. You can cry and shout and buy plane tickets to Tokyo, and no matter what, I'll be sticking around for you and our child," he assured her warmly. "This isn't the way we planned it. I'm scared too, you know," he added. "I'm scared that the next few months are going to be very hard for you, I'm scared that you're too young for this, I'm scared that I'm going to be a terrible father, but… you've conquered everything anyone has ever put in front of you, and I know that it's all going to be okay because of that," he finished softly.

"Is it okay if I just… don't think about this for a little while?" she questioned him quietly. He chuckled.

"We still have – what was it, seven and a half months?" he responded thoughtfully. "We still have plenty of time to get used to this. We can think about it when we're ready," he answered, smoothing her hair back.

"I don't want to talk to my Dad," Loli muttered quietly.

"That's okay."

"I don't want to talk to Fanny."

"No objections here."

"I want to call the kid Mudkip."

"Uhhh… no," he replied after a short pause. She laughed into his chest.

"Can we go to Sicily now?" she questioned, raising her head to meet his eyes. He smiled.

"Your decision, love," he answered, leaning forwards, and pressing his lips to hers.

**A/N: Did you get the symbolism of Darcy letting Loli make a decision? THAT KIND OF PERSONALITY CHANGE IS OPRAH WORTHY PEOPLE!!! Hahaha, I've had red cordial loaded up with preservative 211 and I watched Oprah for the first time today. Hehehe, you Americans get all the funny stuff! Please review, only one chapter left and then it's all over! *sob* So remember to vote for the story you want to read next, it should be open to everyone, not just registered members of FFN, so don't hesitate to pick and choose!**


	50. Epilogue

**A/N: SO sorry for not updating quicker, but this took me longer than expected to write. Thank you for your kinds words and concern, particularly you, Geril, and I'm sorry if I made you wait too long, but the chapter is almost eight thousand words to make up for it! Not edited properly, I made come back and fix a few things, but this is it for now. I hope you like it.**

Whit stifled a slight yawn as he closed his book, and placed it down on the empty couch cushion beside him. He glanced over to the dying fire, its red embers casting a soft, warm glow over the sitting room separating the master bedroom at the Pemberley and the nursery.

Snuggled into a warm little crevice between her sleeping mother, and her rather drowsy father, Cecelia Darcy sat, wrapped up in a pink and blue panda blanket, one of her impossibly tiny hands tugging at the beginnings of what promised to be an impressive mane of dark scarlet curls, her big, bright blue eyes closed as she slumbered peacefully. Whit smiled softly, running a hand through his wife's curls as she tiredly shifted against him.

They hadn't been at Pemberley for several months. After the 'Wickham Ordeal', and the news of Lolita's pregnancy, things had taken another little spin. Whilst Whit had been able to go home almost immediately after the most horrible night of his life, Lolita was in the hospital for another three weeks, healing from her bullet wound, and undergoing emergency platelet transfusion treatment. A pregnancy had come as a complete surprise. Lolita was at first in no condition to carry a child to full term, it was even suggested that they terminate the child for the sake of the mother's health, but neither of them would hear anything of it.

So, after what felt like an eternity of medical treatments, and then a whole pile of extra drugs and warnings, they were able to make an escape to Sicily, like they had planned.

It wasn't terribly hot in Sicily, but the beaches were still beautiful, and for a month they stayed in a beach house just thirty paces away from the shore. Despite the concern coming from friends and family for Lolita's health after the Wickham ordeal, they were able to sneak away for a full month, enjoying their 'honeymoon' away from the prying eyes of society.

"Can we stay like this forever?" she had asked one evening, the day before they were going to leave for London. They were both stretched out on the beach, enjoying the surprising warmth they were experiencing, watching the waves roll up and down.

"I wish we could, love," he smiled in return, tracing lazy, invisible circles over her stomach, her head resting on his chest. "But we need to get back. You have to start treatment again tomorrow," he reminded her softly. She rolled her eyes, her small hand writing invisible, nonsense letters over the side of his chest. "But the moment it's finished, you can pick wherever you want, and we'll go there. You can pick _whatever _you want, and we'll do it. Okay?" he suggested, a tiny smile gracing her lips, her eyes twinkling playfully.

"It's Christmas in three weeks, and two days," she reminded him. "Can we go to Pemberley? I think it'd be magical to spend Christmas there," she sighed wistfully.

"Whatever your heart desires, love," he murmured in response. "And you can decorate the whole house if you want. We'll only be in London for a week, but we can buy every decoration in the city if you want," he added. She grinned, and laughed softly against his chest.

"This'll probably be your first Lolita Christmas then," she said playfully.

"That could be fun. I'm growing rather attached to all those ribbons and lace, you know," he replied. "So what do you do for a Lolita Christmas? How do you celebrate it?" he questioned curiously. Loli grinned.

"Well, it depends. My first year in Tokyo, Sora and I rented out this gorgeous old house in Kyoto, and we decorated it as Shiro Lolita. _Everything_ was white. It was beautiful," she explained. "And then the next year, we bought Sweet Lolita dresses in red and green, and we went to her parent's place to celebrate, her Mum helped us to decorate, we had this giant tree, and we baked for _days_ on end, it was _wonderful_," she sighed happily. "How were Christmases at Pemberley?" she questioned curiously.

"Uh… Cold, if I remember well," he replied thoughtfully. "I'm not quite sure. I remember that the whole place was decorated to the hilt, and we had lots of people around every year, and we would have lots of food and hot chocolate," he said slowly. "I remember that we had trees in almost every room… and – a snowball fight once… and lots of tinsel, and music, and Mrs Reynolds would let us bake cookies with her," he continued.

"Why did you never have another Christmas at Pemberley?" she asked curiously.

"My mother was always in charge of Christmas. She was the one that organised everything, she loved it, but after she died… well, father just didn't have the heart, I suppose," he shrugged. "But it'd be nice to have a proper Christmas again," he said decidedly.

"Well why don't we invite lots of people around?" Loli suggested. "I mean, there's _plenty_ of room, it'd be really nice," she rationalised. "We can invite Richard, Chandra, Cale, Joan, even Sora," she suggested. He smiled.

"That would be lovely. And we can extend the invitation, too, your mother, Edgar, and the kids can come, and my Aunt and Uncle, they haven't met you yet, but I know that they'll love you," he replied.

"Are you sure? They aren't going to hate me?" she questioned, frowning slightly. He chuckled.

"Aunt Ekaterina was the odd one out in the Filischkin – or rather, Fitzwilliam family," he explained. "My Aunt and Uncle are very lovely, but I don't know how they bred a thing like Richard," he muttered. Loli laughed. "I have another cousin, Eleanor Gracechurch, she's the daughter of my father's younger brother, he's dead now, but we could ask her, I doubt she'd come, she's living in America now with her husband and children, but it would be polite," he continued.

"Okay, why don't _you_ take care of the guest list, and I'll do the rest?" she offered. He chuckled.

"If you say so," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "And what about your father? It could be a good idea for him to be here, if you think you're ready," he suggested carefully. She frowned slightly at the thought.

"He left," she muttered softly. Whit smoothed a curl back from her face.

"He came back," he reminded her. "I'm not saying that you _have_ to do this, I'm just saying that he'd want to know about the little one, and he's your father. You're going through something very big in your life, and he'd like to be a part of it, I know," he explained softly. She snuggled closer to him.

"I think he was upset that he never got to do that whole 'giving me away' thing," she muttered thoughtfully.

"I can understand how he feels. I couldn't imagine giving you away, and if he loves you even _half_ as much as I do, then he's probably in agony," he replied.

"Let's invite him then. Fanny and the girls are spending Christmas in America with Fanny's parents, so he'd probably be moping around the house anyway," she decided finally. Whit smiled, and kissed the top of her head lightly.

"I love you, Loli," he said finally, giving a tiny sigh of contentment.

He smiled in the memory. Their first Christmas together had been… wonderful. Better than any he remembered from his childhood, and probably better than any other could be in the future. For days on end she was decorating, baking, cleaning (or at least attempting to), until the entire house was a thing of beauty, even better than he remembered from the days when his mother was in charge. All of Pemberley was covered in tinsel and baubles, trees in every room, so by the time the guests had arrived, about a week before Christmas Eve, Pemberley looked like some sort of dream, not a real place.

"You did an _amazing_ job, you know," he commented, stepping into the large den, which held the biggest tree and the most decorations. "I'm quite serious. Why are you working in Illustration? I need you in Interior Design, or… or perhaps I'll start a Decoration department," he continued.

"I'm not just a pretty face, you know," she reminded him with a grin, carefully unwrapping the last of the glass baubles. "I'm using all the traditional decorations on this tree, Sarah said they've been passed down in the family for years," she said, rising to her feet, and beginning to attach the shimmering golden orbs.

"I remember them," Whit replied softly, smiling as he carefully inspected a little mahogany sparrow, its breast painted the brightest of reds. "Not all of them are antiques, though. She bought ornaments for Gigi and I on our first Christmases. She said it was a tradition in the Fitzwilliam family to give them to the new members of the family," he explained.

"Hmm… well, next year Christmas we'll be able to continue that tradition," she replied with a little smile, as she tied another bauble to the tree. Whit glanced over at her, and grinned at the thought. "When are the guests arriving?" she asked curiously, picking up another bauble.

"In a few hours," he answered, crossing the room to the large marble fireplace, and stoking the flames a little. He glanced back at her, her scarlet curls reflecting the warm crimson glow of the fire as they spilled down her spine. She wore a pair of jeans, and an oversized pink jumper with a panda across the bust, happily occupying herself with the last of the decorations. "You know, pregnancy really suits you," he commented suddenly. She glanced up, and met his eyes.

"Hmm. _You_ weren't there for the nausea and dizziness, it's easy for you to say," she countered, but her eyes were still twinkling brightly. He stepped towards her.

"It's almost like you're _actually_ glowing," he said softly, running a hand slowly over her long curls. "When we first married, I thought that you might be pregnant. Because you seemed to take on this beautiful radiance, and now… I… Lolita, words escape me," he practically whispered, wrapping his arms around her shoulders from behind, carefully, as not to agitate her shoulder, because occasionally it would twinge with pain, pressing his lips softly against the side of her jaw.

"Well, I think you're pretty cute too," she replied cheekily, placing the last bauble on the tree, and sighing softly as she looked back at it. It was a thing of beauty. "You know Whit, I didn't think that I'd be here," she said suddenly. He tensed slightly against her.

"What do you mean?" he questioned with hasty concern. She laughed softly at his worry, soothing his fears.

"I mean… when I met you, I had no idea that by Christmas we'd be married, expecting a baby, and celebrating with our families," she explained quietly. He relaxed against her, and she moved away from him slightly, pulling him light to sit with her on the rug before the fireplace. She settled against him, one of his hands running wide, lazy circles over her stomach, as was his favourite pastime of late. "When did you fall in love with me?" she asked curiously, tilting her head slightly to meet his eyes, hers twinkling playfully. He chuckled, and looked thoughtful.

"Well… I don't really know," he replied honestly. "I was in the middle before I knew I had begun. I found you attractive in Tokyo, but you annoyed me, so I ignored it," he confessed. She chuckled. "And I was so surprised to see you in London that I could barely process how lovely you were. I just had the '_Small World_' song playing over and over in my head that I could hardly think clearly," he explained.

"Hmm… And what was it that attracted you? Because you made it perfectly clear at the beginning that you found me barely 'tolerable', so was it my amazing intelligence? Did you admire me for my rapier wit?" she questioned teasingly. He laughed.

"Uhh… for your liveliness of mind, I did," he replied after a moment's thought. "You almost seemed to… sparkle. And I _knew_ you heard me say that," he practically groaned, rolling his eyes. "I was too terrified to ask you, but I always suspected as much. I was in a terrible mood, and so surprised, I _knew_ that I was lying when I told Caleb that I found you only tolerable, but I just… didn't stop the words coming out of my mouth. You'd made me look like an idiot, so I was angry with you," he muttered. "I found you very pretty. Beautiful, even. And every day you get more beautiful," he assured her. Her eyes twinkled with playfulness.

"Well, I _guess_ that'll do, but I still want to know when and where you fell in love with me," she replied firmly. He chuckled thoughtfully.

"Uhh… I guess… well, the first time I realised that I had feelings for you – beyond those of just curiosity or friendship, that is – was when I saw James talking to you in your office," he answered. "I was just so… _jealous_; I couldn't even think straight, I wanted to kill him. I knew it was serious then, and that terrified me," he confessed. She grinned smugly.

"Chandra was just outside of my office when you were arguing with James. She said you looked like you wanted to rip _him_ apart, and 'nail' me," she informed him. He grinned slightly.

"She's a remarkably perceptive woman, Chandra," he commented lightly. Loli laughed, and light smacked him on the arm. He chuckled.

"Come on, keep the story up, Baby and I are very amused so far," she urged him.

"Well… I think I started to fall for you from the very beginning, but when you turned up at Netherfield Park – I watched you drive up and get out of the car. I could hardly move, I was just so… perhaps that's when I fell in love with you," he muttered thoughtfully. "I first _realised_ that I was very close to being in love with you when you walked into my office one morning, wearing the shoes that I had sent you, and your hair was tied back with the pink ribbon on the box. You were so happy that morning, and you looked so lovely, I guess… well, perhaps it was then," he muttered thoughtfully.

"That's so sweet," she whispered softly.

"I knew that my feelings for you were getting to be very, _very_ serious when you fell apart in my office, and you let me hold you until you fell asleep. I knew that I had to leave, or there would be no going back," he explained.

"Someone should write a book about that," she muttered. He chuckled.

"No. I don't think anyone would be able to capture it all in a few words," he answered. "Can I ask… when did you fall in love with me?" he questioned carefully. She looked thoughtful.

"I can't really… pick a time, or a place, or a single second, it was so gradual… it took me so long to love you," she answered. "But probably when I saw Pemberley. Yeah. Pemberley really did it for me," she said teasingly. He laughed in response.

"Good to know," he grinned.

"No, I think… well, I think that I started to love you right after you left my room at Chandra's place. You looked so hurt, like I'd just kicked you in the ribs, I couldn't understand _why_, but I was almost definitely in love with you when I saw you again in Pemberley," she explained. "But I guess that it was the night I… well, the night I went into your room for the first time. I'd been thinking about you all day, whether or not I loved you, and I just _knew_ that I did all of a sudden, I wanted to tell you, but I guess… well, I guess I kind of showed you," she muttered.

"I thought as much," he replied, easing back slightly, so he was lying on the floor, and her head was still on his chest. His hand was still running over her stomach, but he then moved the other to the small of her back.

"I tried to write a response to your email, but I just couldn't. I wanted to tell you how I felt, because I'd liked you for a very long time," she explained. He smiled softly.

"Your impromptu visit was better than an email," he replied. They sat together in silence for a little while, before Loli announced that she needed to check that the rooms had been prepared for the guests, and unsteadily rose to her feet. He watched her with a small smile on his face, and she flashed him a little grin, before slipping out of the room.

Loli was concerned about what his family was going to think of her, but she didn't let her husband know. After checking on all the rooms she quickly changed, and hurried downstairs, just as she heard the first car come up the drive.

"Loli!" Whit cried laughingly, as she literally dashed over the highly polished marble floor in the entrance to the house. She crashed into his arms as he prepared to open the door, holding her securely before she slid any further. "Calm down! You'll hurt yourself if you're not careful," he said sternly, but his eyes were still twinkling with laughter.

"I _am_ careful!" she defended, trying to hold back giggles. "Come on! They're outside!" she urged him, grabbing his wrist and pulling the door open quickly, practically dragging him outside.

"Loli!" Joan squealed excitedly, as she got out of the rented car that she, Cale, Richard and Chandra had taken from London.

"Joan!" Loli cried joyfully in return, rushing towards her in haste, the two meeting quickly in a tight hug, soon to be joined by Chandra. "You both look gorgeous!" Loli cried in amazement, looking between the two. Joan had regained her usual glow and vitality, and Chandra had gotten another haircut, a wavy sort of bob in a dark shade of burgundy that lent something very attractive to her overall appearance. She looked better than she ever had before.

"What are you talking about? You look _gorgeous_!" Chandra exclaimed in response, as they stood back to take in her appearance. Loli couldn't help but beam, her cheeks turning pink with the cold. She wore a very pretty pale yellow long-sleaved Lolita dress and thick white stockings, her hair pulled back in a ponytail away from her face.

"You're practically glowing! Did you get some sort of bug or something?" Joan questioned incredulously. Loli just grinned secretly. Only Whit, her mother and Richard knew that she was pregnant, not even Gigi or Sora knew. They were planning on revealing it on Christmas day, collectively to all the guests.

"A bug? Hmm, _that_ could work," Richard laughed secretly, walking up to the girls, his eyes twinkling.

"Loli!" Cale greeted enthusiastically, pulling her into a tight hug. Loli laughed as he picked her up and spun her around before depositing her back on the ground. "It's good to see you looking so healthy!" he said cheerfully, inspecting her appearance.

"My shoulder has been fine recently, and the platelet transfusion treatment is starting to kick in," she informed him cheerfully.

"Mwahaha, now Father Christmas shall steal you and take you back to the North Pole!" Richard declared, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. Loli laughed.

"Whit might have something to say about that," she teased, glancing back to her husband.

"Nah, he doesn't mind!" Richard declared with a smirk. Whit rolled his eyes as he approached the group, limping only slightly.

"My leg might still be a little stiff – but that doesn't mean I still can't end you, you know," he reminded him sternly. Richard laughed.

"And how _is_ the old leg then?" he questioned. Whit shrugged.

"I'm working on it. It's not quite back to normal, but the doctors are quite certain that it'll be perfect in another year," he answered. Cale clapped his friend on the back, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Good on you, man," he said cheerfully.

"Alright, you've been working out," Whit frowned, when he had regained his composure. Cale grinned like a madman.

"Yes. I just wanted to show off," he admitted with delight. Whit rolled his eyes.

"Come on then you lot, I don't like Lolita being out here in the cold," he said, gesturing over to the house.

"Oh, and _we_ can just freeze our behinds off then?" Chandra challenged teasingly. Whit took Loli's hand, and glanced back at Chandra with a tiny smirk.

"Precisely," he replied quickly, before pulling his wife back up to the house as Chandra and Joan let out an offended '_humph_', as Cale and Richard burst into laughter. They were about to walk back inside when another car rolled up the drive, just as two boys who worked in the house ran out to collect bags.

"Sora!" Loli cried excitedly, when she saw who was getting out of the car.

"And… she's running again," Whit sighed, as she dashed over to the taxi. He laughed as the two embraced tightly, putting his chilly hands in his pockets. He would give them a minute to themselves before he joined them.

"Is Loli bi?" Richard asked curiously, watching the two hug each other tightly, laughing joyfully. They were both wearing dresses and thick woollen stockings, Sora's dress in a mint green, a white cardigan covering it.

"Possibly," Whit replied, he too watching the two of them curiously. "She thinks Keira Knightley is gorgeous," he added thoughtfully.

"That doesn't necessarily mean she's bi," Cale pointed out.

"But they are hugging each other pretty tightly," Richard threw in.

"And she _does_ watch Miyuki-Chan in Wonderland," Whit muttered, frowning slightly.

"You don't sound concerned," Richard noticed, glancing at his cousin, who shrugged.

"Would _you_ be?" he replied. Richard and Caleb both cleared their throats.

"Honestly, you three are just sad," Chandra scolded. Richard threw her a small smirk.

"Oh, we know. But don't pretend that you haven't imagined us three making out together," he defended. Chandra shrugged.

"Touché," she replied cheekily. Whit coughed loudly.

"Are you sick?" came a questioning voice as Loli and Sora approached.

"Oh no, quite well," he managed to reply, Richard sniggering in the background with a slightly horrified Cale. "It's good to see you, Sora," he greeted politely.

"Oh, I'm sure it is," she grinned. "I can lip read in three different languages buddy, you lot are in _big_ trouble," she added sternly.

"Is that a threat, or a promise?" Richard questioned cheekily. Sora rolled her eyes, and whispered something in Loli's ear. She laughed as a response.

"Come on then Sora-Chan, I'll show you your rooms. Privately," she suggested, her eyes twinkling playfully. Richard and Whit hid back laughter, but they were doing a terrible job at it. Loli rolled her eyes, before she took Sora's hand, and the two hurried up to the house with Chandra and Joan.

It was another half-hour before the next batch of visitors arrived. Loli was proudly showing her guests the extent of the decorations in the house with excitement, so didn't hear the car coming up the drive, but hurried downstairs quickly the moment Mrs Reynolds buzzed upstairs using the intercom to announce the arrival.

"Mum! Père!" she cried, rushing down the grand staircase as the rest of the guests followed behind. She practically jumped into her mother and step-father's embrace, they held her tightly, it was the first time they had been reunited since she left their home in Paris.

"Oh sweetheart, you look beautiful," Madison crooned softly. She made a slight movement to place her hand on Loli's stomach, but stopped herself, knowing that she and Whit wanted to tell everyone themselves.

"How are you?" Edgar asked with concern. Loli grinned.

"Wonderful," she replied sincerely, before her siblings wrapped their arms tightly around her legs.

"Missed you!" Nate declared loudly. Loli laughed, and patted his head.

"I missed you too," she replied lovingly.

"Whit!" Madison cried happily, rushing towards her son-in-law. She was very fond of him, especially after she learnt of his sudden alteration of behaviour, he no longer demanded anything of his wife, and they made all decisions together. She pulled him into a warm hug, which slightly startled him, but he smiled, and reciprocated.

"It's good to see you," he said honestly, after she released him. Madison gave a small, happily little sob, before she started to hug everyone else assembled.

"Whit!" Eve said loudly, toddling over to him. He grinned, and knelt down to the floor.

"Hello there Eve," he greeted warmly. She beamed, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He chuckled and stood, holding her in his arms like a proper, affectionate big-brother.

"Fitzwhitlam, another guest has arrived," Mrs Reynolds announced, interrupting the small reunion taking place. Loli glanced to the open door quickly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Whit tense.

"Dad," she greeted softly. He gave a weak, awkward smile.

"Hello, Moon," he replied carefully. "I – uh, thank you for… inviting me," he muttered. Loli smiled slightly, and shrugged.

"It was Whit's idea," she admitted. "It's… very good to see you," she said, stepping forwards.

"You look… well," he replied, taking in her appearance. "Still dressing like a cream-puff then," he added, with a small laugh. Loli grinned.

"I made it out of icing sugar," she replied, with a small, contented sigh. Her father smiled gratefully at the symbolism of this tiny little event, and gladly accepted her into his arms for a quick hug. She kissed his cheek, and stepped back. "Come on then, I'll show you your room, and we can start a tour," she announced, turning towards her husband, who was putting Eve back on the ground.

He smiled softly at her, and took her hand in his.

"You're amazing," he whispered softly to her, pressing a tiny kiss to her lips, before pulling away again with a smile.

So, bags were taken to rooms, a small tour was given, and then cookies handed out in the kitchen, which was alive with glorious smells and warmth as the cook prepared dinner. Loli was still anxious about meeting Richard's parents, because Whit's Aunt and Uncle had been like surrogate parents to him, and she was worried about how they would react to her.

"They're here," Whit finally said, placing a hand softly on her shoulder. She was sitting in the large living room with her little brothers and sisters; eating cookies and listening to them fill her in on their lives since she had left Paris. The rest of the party were all assembled in the room, talking amongst themselves, save Shamus Starchild, who was unpacking upstairs. Loli suspected it was an excuse for him to avoid the uncomfortableness surrounding him. She stood up quickly.

"Do I look okay?" she questioned quickly. He laughed.

"Oh come on, don't be nervous, they'll love you," he assured her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He took her hand in his, and led her from the room.

"Whit!" came a joyful cry, as a bundle of blonde energy rushed towards him, a young child held in her arms.

"Gigi! You look wonderful," he greeted warmly, stepping back to look at his sister. She had spent the past month at the Matlock Estate with her Aunt and Uncle, so they hadn't seen each other since he and Loli left for Sicily. "And Callum's gotten so big!" he exclaimed. Gigi beamed.

"He's eating solid foods now!" she boated proudly.

"Right, where is she?" came a loud, booming voice echoing around the front entrance room. Loli turned to see a tall, lean man who looked to be in about his sixties, with dark, greying hair, twinkling eyes, and a rather serious expression. He was dressed elegantly in a dark blue suit, and looked to be a very 'no nonsense' sort of man. "Where is the woman that stole my nephew's title?" he questioned.

Loli felt dread soar through her. He hadn't even met her and he already disliked her!

"Actually, it was his heart that I claimed," she found herself saying before she could stop herself. The man continued walking towards her, his expression not softening. He stopped about a foot in front of her, meeting her eyes firmly. "You must be Lord Fitzwilliam. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," she said politely, awaiting his reaction.

He burst into laughter.

"Oh she's a gem," he chuckled, with a rich Russian accent. Loli glanced to her husband in confusion. He was grinning.

"Uncle, it's rude to frighten my wife. She doesn't understand your… sense of humour," he said sternly, fighting a grin. Lord Fitzwilliam continued to chuckle.

"I'm sorry my dear, forgive an old man his indulgences," he replied, pressing a quick kiss to either cheek.

"Not a problem. If you're anything like your son, I'm sure we'll get along famously," she countered with a grin. "Or… at least tolerably," she added cheekily. Lord Fitzwilliam gave another booming chuckle.

"Step aside Dimitri," came an insistent voice from behind the man. He was pushed aside, despite his large size, by a much smaller woman, who looked to be in her late forties, or early fifties, her sandy blonde hair cut short to the nape of her neck. She was rather attractive, and something about her reminded Loli very much of Richard. "Ah. Yes, lovely," she said decidedly, looking Loli up and down. "She's simply lovely, Whit," she said, turning to her nephew, who smiled.

"I'm rather fond of her," he replied, taking Loli's hand again, and squeezing it within his own. "Lolita, this is my Uncle and Aunt, Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam," he informed her. "Aunt, Uncle, this is Lolita, my wife," he introduced.

"Enough of that, it's simply Belinda, my dear," Lady Fitzwilliam replied shortly. "And _that_ is my husband, Dimitri. Pay him no attention," she advised cheekily. Loli laughed, and glanced back to Whit. He smiled.

Her anxiousness eased.

Whit smiled fondly at the memory of their first Christmas as he looked down at his wife and daughter. It had been so beautiful. Whilst many of the decorations were still very traditional, Loli had soon added in red and white lace to the festivities, and indeed, everything _did_ start to look rather Lolita. Including herself.

He had woken up on Christmas day a little while before her. She was sleeping much more, now that her pregnancy progressed, and the night before had tired her out. The young children were so enthusiastic about 'Father Christmas' (Richard had been forced into the suit, and did a remarkably good – if not slightly lecherous when the woman sat on his lap – job of it) coming to visit them, that sleep seemed an impossibility. And after that, the adults stayed up for a little while longer with brandy and hot chocolate (Loli, to continue keeping the baby a secret until the next day, insisted that the platelet transfusion treatment strictly forbid alcohol) before bed.

For the first time he was able to see the physical evidence of her pregnancy. She was almost four months along, and yet her stomach had still remained fairly flat. He wondered if it had just been overnight, or if he had never been in the proper position to examine it, but now, as she slept in a light nightgown, sheets tangled around her waist, he could see it. A soft little bump that contained his child. He slid down in the bed, and ever so softly pressed his lips to her stomach. It was the best Christmas present anyone had ever given him.

"Hmm… baby says hello to you too," she tiredly mumbled. He slid back up in bed, pulling the sheets along with him, pressing a loving kiss to her lips.

"Merry Christmas," he greeted softly, as she rubbed her eyes, and smiled back at him.

"Ditto," she yawned. "I was wondering when you were going to notice the bump," she muttered, sitting up slightly. He grinned.

"I had _noticed_ it, but it really… struck me this morning," he explained, placing a hand on the gentle curve of her stomach. "Gigi started to show at the beginning of her third month. But I think you're going to carry differently, you're much smaller than her," he explained.

"You should have seen my Mum. She just looked like she had half a basket-ball under her shirt, even at nine months. If you looked at her from behind you couldn't even tell she was pregnant," she informed him.

"That'll probably be the case for you," he said softly. "This honestly is the best Christmas I've ever had. I get to be with my beautiful, amazing wife, and see the first signs of our child. Nothing could top this," he sighed contentedly. Loli smiled, and kissed his cheek.

"Then I'm _totally_ not giving you your present," she decided. He grinned.

"I thought I got my present last night," he replied, his eyes twinkling cheekily.

"Tasteless, but at least you try," she responded, sitting up with a grin. "I got you a few things, books and that sort of stuff, they're all downstairs. But I wanted to give you something else, just not in front of everyone else," she explained sliding over to the side of the bed. She stood on the footstool that had been placed there to allow her to get on and off easily, before she moved across the room to her walk-in wardrobe that had been put in when they married, and it officially became 'their' room.

He took the opportunity to go to the wardrobe, and take out two powder blue boxes with light pink bows. He carried them to the bed, and set them down, just as Lolita returned to the room.

"Ooh! You got me presents?" she exclaimed with delight, sitting on the bed. She held a large, flat object, with a giant red bow on it. He chuckled.

"There are more downstairs. These two I wanted to give to you now," he replied.

"Well, me first! I didn't wrap this properly, so if I open mine, you'll probably see it," she muttered, holding her gift up. "Close your eyes," she demanded. He chuckled, and did so. She placed it in his hands. "Alright, you can open them now," she informed him.

His mouth fell slightly as he saw her gift.

"Oh… Loli," he whispered softly, slowly pulling away the bow so he could better examine the drawing in the ornate, gilded frame.

"I found a few old pictures… and I sort of, well, I didn't really base it on any _one_ picture, I think I kind of took some artistic licence," she explained.

Whit's fingers traced the smooth, familiar outlines of his mother's face very softly over the glass. He couldn't believe it. She had never even _met_ his mother, and somehow she had captures something that no other artist had been able to do, she had captured the very _essence_ of her.

"Oh… you don't like it?" she murmured, when he had said nothing.

"Oh no, I love it," he replied, looking up, and meeting her eyes. "Thank you. _So_ much. You have no idea what this… what this means to me," he practically whispered. Loli smiled softly.

"She was very beautiful. I took a gamble with the expression – it's the same one you use when you… when you look at me," she explained softly. He laughed, and pulled her into his arms.

"God, you're _so_… _thank you_, Loli," he said affectionately. "This is wonderful. _You're_ wonderful," he added. She grinned into his shoulder.

"I already knew that," she laughed. "Come on then, my turn!" she said eagerly, before pressing a small kiss to his cheek, and leaning back.

"Alright… this one first. I thought you might like to wear it," he offered, handing her the first box. It was a large flat thing, with a lid and a pink bow. Loli removed the lid eagerly, and gasped.

"It's so pretty!" she cried, picking up the dress from the box. It was a lovely shade of rich red, with long sleaves, a large white boat collar and bow on the front, and whilst it had the traditional bell-skirt of a Lolita dress, it was a little less 'poofy'. It was terribly festive, and even came with a pair of red Mary Janes.

"I wanted you to know that I _do_ like the whole 'Sweet Lolita' thing," he explained, as she pulled out the white and red hairpiece. "I mean, it took me a little while to get used to it, but I'm really quite fond of it. It's bizarre, but you look lovely in it," he continued. "There are more downstairs. I just thought you might like to wear this today," he muttered.

Loli softly bit her lip as she looked at the dress. It was beautiful.

"So… do you like it?" he asked nervously. She glanced up at him with a small smile. She practically threw herself into his arms. He leant back against the bed, her lithe form pressed against his chest. They were both laughing, but managed to share a kiss between their chuckles.

"I _love_ it," she beamed as a response.

"The other one is… well, to be perfectly honest, an incentive for you to keep your hair long. It's another one of those 'Lolita and Humbert' things," he explained, reaching over for the other present. Loli adjusted her position so she was sitting up on his lap. He handed her another box, it was much heavier than the other, but a great deal smaller.

"Ooh! What is it?" she questioned curiously, as she undid the ribbon, and opened the lid. In the box was a beautiful set of silver hair brushes and combs, with stunning ornamental designs creeping over the handles. "Whit! These are – they're so beautiful!" she exclaimed, picking the largest one up carefully.

"Read the inscription," he advised her. She peered at the surface of the brush, taking in the small, curled script.

"_To my love, Lolita,_" she read carefully. "_You were a child when we met. A girl. A lovely, beautiful young girl_," she continued, softly biting her lip. "_And then you grew up. I'm so proud of you, love. And I'm glad that I was allowed to be a part of that journey. I loved you as a girl, and I love you as a woman. I'll always love you_," she practically whispered. "_With all the love a man can possess, your husband, Whit_," she finished quietly, meeting his eyes.

"I can't write poetry. I tried, but unfortunately – well, it was crap," he muttered, looking slightly sheepish. "In the end, the engraver just handed me a post-it and a gel pen. Took me two minutes, but… it's honest," he explained.

"Just so you know, it's these damn hormones that are making me cry," she insisted, wiping her eyes with haste. He smiled softly, and cupped her cheek in his hand. She leant forwards and pressed a kiss to his lips. He wrapped his arms softly around her waist, and reciprocated the affection.

Sitting in that same room months later, Whit lovingly stroked back his wife's hair. She used those brushes every day, and still smiled to herself whenever she saw the inscription.

Telling all the guests had been the fun part of Lolita's first Christmas at Pemberley. After they had all exchanged their gifts and warm wishes, and a lovely long walk on the chilly, but unfortunately not yet snow-covered grounds, the day was coming to an end. Christmas dinner was a spectacular affair, in the formal dining room, everyone assembled around the same table, laughing and smiling and having a genuinely good time.

Whit glanced at his wife's eyes, and she smiled back. He was about to stand up, to make a toast, and inform everyone of their good news, but it seemed that his cousin had just bet him to it. Richard proudly stood, with a giddy grin on his face that had little to do with the half a bottle of champagne he had consumed.

"Right. An announcement!" he cried loudly. The talking at the table ceased, and all looked to him. "Chandra is moving back in with me, she fell for my charms and irresistible good looks," he announced proudly. Chandra rolled her eyes. "And _yes_, Mother, we will be living in sin. So. To Chandra!" he cried, raising his glass. Everyone at the table sniggered, but joined his toast, before Richard sat down. Chandra smacked him on the arm, and then kissed him. Whit chuckled at his cousin, who looked happier than he had in a long time.

"Right. Lets try that again then, shall we?" he murmured to his wife. He was just about to stand up for the second time that evening, but it appeared that once again, he was beaten to the mark. He hid back a groan of irritation, but Loli silenced him with a single look, and his attention fixed onto Cale, who had a grin about the same size and magnitude as Richard's on his face.

"Joan and I are getting married!" he practically giggled. Everyone around the table cheered.

"Show off!" Richard cried.

After congratulations had gone around the table, and everyone had returned to their meal, Loli glanced at Whit.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked curiously, when she noted that he hadn't stood up.

"Someone to interrupt me," he murmured. She rolled her eyes in laughter, and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. He finally stood up.

"Uh… so, you all know that the past year has had plenty of ups and downs for some of us," he began, sounding a little nervous. "In addition to the most recent… occurrences, I also had the difficult task of wooing this beautiful young woman here, until she _finally_, and I'm talking a second proposal here, agreed to become me wife," he continued. Everyone cheered. "That's not the announcement," he reminded them, and the cheers turned to chuckles. He took Loli's hand in his, and held it tightly. "And… well, we have some more news. Come sometime in May, there's going to be a new member of the Darcy family. Lolita and my son or daughter," he said, unable to hold back the grin on his face as everyone at the table burst into joyful cheers.

"_Whit_! Why didn't you tell me?" Gigi exclaimed loudly. He shrugged, and grinned.

"Dramatic effect?" he offered cheekily, his eyes twinkling.

"Loli-Chan! _Angelic Pretty_ has maternal Lolita!" Sora cried excitedly. "And baby Lolita too! Ha! This kid is going to be _so_ Lolita!" she practically giggled, jumping out of her chair, and joining the cue to hug the expectant mother.

"What if it's a boy?" Whit questioned curiously.

"Oh, there's plenty of boy Lolita," Sora responded, wrapping her arms around her best friend tightly. "And I just thought you were getting fat," she chuckled.

Whit had to hide back his laughter as he thought of that memory. Loli gave Sora the telling off of the century, but they were still laughing and hugging each other all the way through.

Upon hearing his daughter make the first sounds of awaking, he carefully picked her up, and softly rocked her in his arms. He couldn't help but gaze at the precious little angel before him. Even though she had been unexpected, she was a miracle. They were told that they couldn't have children unless Lolita underwent therapy, and even then, it would be long and hard. But despite all early assumptions, Loli and Cecelia had survived through the pregnancy, and after two months in a hospital, she had recovered from the birth. It was her first night back at Pemberley after they had to rush to the Lambton hospital, two and a half weeks earlier than expected.

As Cecelia nodded back off into sleep, he glanced over at his wife. She was smiling drowsily up at him.

"You're really good at that," she murmured tiredly. He smiled in response, before putting Cecelia down in her crib near their bed. He rejoined her on the couch.

"I love you," he whispered as a response, pulling her warmly to his chest, and leaning back on the couch, his heart brimming over with adoration for the girl – nay, _woman_, in his arms. He smiled softly as her eyelids fluttered to a close, pressing a tiny kiss to her temple, sighed, and fell into sleep himself before the dying embers in the hearth.

All was well.

**A/N: So, it comes to an end. Thank you everyone for favouriting, reviewing, and watching, and for being a part of this journey. As KarenMC commented a while ago, my characters are almost surreal versions of Jane Austen's originals, and it feels very surreal to end their story. But, it's over now *sniff*, thank you all for being a part of it. :D**

**With love, **

**Evie ^__^**


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